Podcasts about Ignoring

Talking yourself into staying? Ignoring the voice telling you it's time to go? That heaviness in your gut is the answer. You're settling because it feels safer than facing the unknown, but it's costing you more than you realize. Ready to wake up? Casiah West and I are here to shake you out of it.Follow the pod on ⁠⁠⁠IG⁠⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠.⁠⁠Follow Chloe on ⁠⁠IG⁠⁠ and ⁠⁠TikTok⁠⁠ ⁠Follow Casiah and her pod

  Do you understand what the Bible says, if you see these type of people in need and you just go on your daily selfish life? Do you understand that the Bible has strong warnings against that type of behavior and attitude. He says, "If you help the least of my little ones, you're helping me." I believe someday in heaven, when the, the books are opened and, and, uh, some people are gonna literally be condemned, they'll say, "Why? Why?

Stop making your marketing way harder than it needs to be. In this episode of Marketing Sucks, Phil and I reveal the five major marketing mistakes you're probably making right now - and how to stop driving yourself crazy doing all the things. Listen in as we break down the most crucial do's and don'ts of showing up online, reveal the #1 easiest way to boost your conversions (it may not be what you expect), and give you our official permission to stop posting on every single platform. This is a must-listen episode for both new and seasoned biz owners.Marketing sucks. Let's learn together. Hit play to discover:‌ ‌Why that hot new app may be useless for your biz (and how to figure it out)Why repurposing content is more complicated than you think What you absolutely need to have in place BEFORE postingPlease rate, review, and subscribe!Timestamps:‌ ‌00:11  Intro02:08  Trying to be everywhere05:29  Repurpose or not?06:25  Dominating your platform08:16  Having a strategy10:53  Ignoring your list13:28  Selling without solving16:44  Time crunch18:40  Chasing perfection23:20  Recap24:14  Action items & outro—

Dreamerspro Declares the Lakers Season Over After Latest Turn, Video Shows Kawhi Leonard and the Clippers Ignoring Ty Lue, Lakers Make a Key Decision on Bronny James After Injury Loss, Charles Barkley Reveals the Night His Friendship With Michael Jordan Ended Download the PrizePicks app today and use code CLNS and get $50 instantly when you play $5! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Father Robert Sirico joins Freddy Gray to discuss the imprisonment of Jimmy Lai – the British passport holder and Hong Kong media tycoon facing life in jail for opposing the Chinese Communist Party. Sirico reflects on Lai's rise from poverty, his Catholic faith, the collapse of freedoms in Hong Kong, and why the West has failed to mount a serious campaign for his release.Become a Spectator subscriber today to access this podcast without adverts. Go to spectator.co.uk/adfree to find out more.For more Spectator podcasts, go to spectator.co.uk/podcasts. Contact us: podcast@spectator.co.uk Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Seven Ways to Know You're in the Will of God • Sunday Service Website: www.PastorTodd.org To give: www.ToddCoconato.com/give Seven Ways to Know You're in the Will of God (And How You Know When You're Not) Let me tell you something up front: The will of God is not a mystery! Religion paints this picture like God is hiding His will from you, and you've got to stumble around in the dark hoping you trip into it. No! God's will is clear, God's will is knowable, and God's will brings you into blessing and kingdom advancement. If you're not in the will of God, you're wasting time, spinning your wheels, and giving the devil a foothold in your life. But when you're in His will, you don't just survive—you multiply, you advance, and you shake the nations for Christ. 1. Peace in Your Spirit Scripture: “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.” — Colossians 3:15 (NKJV) 2. Confirmation by the Word of God Scripture: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” — Psalm 119:105 (NKJV) 3. Fruitfulness and Multiplication Scripture: “You will know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes from thornbushes or figs from thistles?” — Matthew 7:16 (NKJV) 4. Open Doors by God's Hand Scripture: “I know your works. See, I have set before you an open door, and no one can shut it; for you have a little strength, have kept My word, and have not denied My name.” — Revelation 3:8 (NKJV) 5. The Witness of the Holy Spirit Scripture: “The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.” — Romans 8:16 (NKJV) 6. Provision in the Assignment Scripture: “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:19 (NKJV) 7. Advancing the Kingdom of God Scripture: “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” — Matthew 6:33 (NKJV) How You Know You're NOT in the Will of God Let me hit this quickly and clearly. The Bible shows us markers of being outside His will: 1. Confusion and unrest. “For God is not the author of confusion but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33 (NKJV) 2. Compromise against Scripture. “But even if we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel to you… let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:8 (NKJV) 3. Lack of fruit. “If anyone does not abide in Me, he is cast out as a branch and is withered.” — John 15:6 (NKJV) 4. Constant striving with no breakthrough. “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NKJV) 5. Ignoring conviction. “And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.” — Ephesians 4:30 (NKJV) 6. Living in lack. “You have sown much, and bring in little… he who earns wages, earns wages to put into a bag with holes.” — Haggai 1:6 (NKJV) 7. Self-glory instead of God's glory. “I am the Lord, that is My name; and My glory I will not give to another.” — Isaiah 42:8 (NKJV) Conclusion Friend, the will of God is not something you have to stumble into—it's something you step into by faith and obedience. When you're in His will, peace rules your heart, doors open, fruit multiplies, provision flows, and the Kingdom advances. When you're out of it, confusion reigns, doors slam shut, provision dries up, and your life feels like pushing a boulder uphill. Make up your mind tonight: I will live in the center of God's will. I will not be distracted. I will not compromise. I will not settle. Because when you're in His will—you're unstoppable.

We love to say we're Agile… but then we bury our teams under complexity, overstuffed user stories, bloated processes, and “just in case” documentation.In this episode, Kate Megaw and Ryan Smith unpack one deceptively simple piece of Scrum wisdom inspired by a quote from Steven Merchant: You can always simplify.From product backlog items that read like novels, to daily scrums that feel like executive status meetings, to processes that exist only because “that's the rule” - this conversation dives into why teams overcomplicate, how fear sneaks into our work, and what Scrum looks like when we finally let go.If your teams feel busy but not effective, this one's for you.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 2 Life in hob-along mode. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When she woke the next morning, Zach was standing next to the bed with a pain pill and a glass of water. "Terry's gonna be here in about half an hour. I could make you some breakfast?" he said, putting the pill and the water into her hand. Honey shook her head, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'd; I'd like to take a shower before I go; if that's okay," she asked. "Right; uh; I'll just set it up for you. I'll get your things together after you're done in there; if you still want to go, that is; Honey closed her eyes and nodded, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to look at the silent pleading in his face. When the shower was ready, Zach carried her down the stairs and set her down in his large walk-in shower on the bathing chair he'd set up for her. "I, uh; I warmed up the water. The; soap and shampoo stuff is right here," he said, gesturing to a collection of bottles put down within her reach. "If you need anything, I'll be right; right here," he said, sitting down on the toilet, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Honey nodded and took off her nightgown and panties, putting them on the floor outside the shower. She leaned down and began unwrapping the velcro the straps on her boot, finding that she couldn't reach the last one. She opened her mouth to ask for help, but Zach was already sliding the door open to undo it for her. When he disassembled the boot around her foot and lifted it away, a slight whimper escaped her when the motion bumped her ankle slightly. Zach's eyes flashed to hers as she tried to cover herself with her arms, "I'm okay," she whispered. Clenching his jaw, Zach nodded, stood and left the stall. The water felt like heaven after the sad sponge baths she had given herself in bed. Her skin came alive in the heat and flushed a deep pink. "Is that too hot? You're getting red," Zach said, standing next to the door looking concerned. "No; it's perfect," she sighed. She twisted around to reach the shampoo and tipped it over, groaning as she watched it roll out of reach. Zach reached into the stall and returned it to her, growling in annoyance as he watched her try to squeeze some out with only one fully functional arm. Soon, he stepped into the shower with her, clad only in his underwear. "I don't know how you think you're going to do this by yourself; he grumbled, glaring at her as he massaged the shampoo into her long hair. "I'll figure it out; put a folding chair in the tub or something," she said, trying not to notice that the fabric of his underwear was leaving nothing to the imagination the wetter it got. "A fucking folding chair will slip. I'll send this one with you. You still can't reach shit, though." "I haven't done this before. I'll get better as I go." "Yeah, but until then, you'll; Look, you need to give me a call when you; so that I know you're okay." "You wouldn't be able to hear me talk; the water makes this growling noise," she said. "Well, why the fu; never mind. You call me before and after. No longer than 10 minutes, or I send Terry." "And he just does whatever you tell him? You're really kinda bossy." "Glad we sorted that out. Put your head back." With a smirk, Honey leaned back, letting him support her with his arm as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. After one minute, Zach began swearing under his breath. "I've been rinsing this shit out of your hair forever and there's still more! How the fuck is this possible?" Honey began giggling, despite the pain it caused her shoulder. "I guess you should allow me longer than 10 minutes to shower, then; she murmured. "Ten fucking minutes, or I send Terry." "Do you have any conditioner?" "Any what?" "Never mind," Honey said, trying to control her face. When he finally released her from being rinsed, Honey grabbed the loofa and put some body wash on it, washing what she could reach with her right arm while Zach glared down at her. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he grated, roughly taking the fluffy sponge from her and then washing her with surprising gentleness. When he delicately supported and washed her broken ankle, he waited until he finished before looking up at her, "Remember, doctor says you can take off your boot for a while now and then, so that should help with the smell. I'll pack the extra sock so you can put a clean one on and wash the; well, just how the fuck are you going to do the laundry?" he asked, as if she created the concept of dirty laundry just to bother him. "Hand wash?" she suggested. "That won't work for these boot socks! They smell like gangrene or some shi;" "Well, now you're just flirting; she said, smiling up at him. For a moment Zach's face went completely blank, his eyes slowly traveling down her naked body as his face turned bright red, then he turned away and cursed under his breath again. "Grab onto my arm and I'll finish you up," he said, clenching his jaw and holding out his forearm to her, as he diligently looked away. Cautiously, she took his arm and tried to stand, rising wobbly on her left leg. Before she could gain her balance, her hand slipped on his wet arm and he pulled her tightly against him before she could fall. Body to body, they clung on to each other in the hot spray, each of them shaking. "Honey; you may notta noticed, but I'm hanging on by a fucking thread, here," Zach said quietly in her ear, "Try not to get yourself killed for two seconds." Honey nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist so that he could move his arms again. She felt him move the loofah between her legs and begin washing her private area, looking around the shower stall as he did. When Honey cringed and her breath hissed between her teeth, he stopped, "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at her face. "It's; rough; she said, quietly. "Yeah, but it was fine when; oh; right; sensitive. Okay; he said, swallowing as he tossed the loofah aside and hesitantly reached his fingers between her legs. Honey leaned her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes, gasping when his fingers made contact. "Is that; is that okay?" he asked. She nodded and tried to move her legs further apart for him. Zach gently washed her, trying to think of sports scores, laxative commercials, or the accounts payable at the club, but inevitably his cock noticed that he was holding the woman of his dreams naked in his arms. When she shifted against him, trying to keep her balance, a breathy grunt escaped him as she inadvertently rubbed against him. "I'm sorry; she whispered, trying to give him more room. "Don't be; you're perfect; it's fine; he said, trying to think about anything but how it would feel to slide his cock between her slippery lips right at that moment. "Let me just get the; water; he gritted, reaching for the shower sprayer and directing it between her legs. Honey gasped and whimpered as the water pulsed against her clit, down her labia and over her anus again and again, feeling Zach's eyes on her as he did it, intensely absorbing her every reaction. She trembled as she held on to him, trying to remain calm. Finally, she raised her eyes up to him and opened her wet lips and whispered, "Zach; ?" "Hey, how do you guys want your eggs?" Terry asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. "Get The Fuck Out Of Here, Maggot!" Zach roared, as Honey squealed and released him, quickly ducking down to where Terry couldn't see her on the shower chair. "Scrambled, it is," Terry said, ducking out of the bathroom and leaving them alone again. Zach watched Honey begin to shiver as the room cooled off and handed her a towel. "Let me know when you're dry and I'll wrap up your leg again," he said, looking around the bathroom uncomfortably before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off his wet underwear from underneath. After securing her ankle in the air cast, Zach carried her back up to the bedroom, turned his back to her, and blocked Terry's kitchen view of the loft as Honey dressed. When she finished, Zach turned around again, his mouth hardening into a grim line when he saw she had put on her elf dress again. "You're; going, then," he said, frowning as he watched her wince at the pain in her shoulder as she tried to tie the thick red ribbon belt behind her back. He stepped behind her and took the belt out of her hands and began brusquely tying it. "I want you to stay," he said to the back of her head, tugging the loops into a tight knot. Honey hobbled around to face him, "Enough to tell me why you wanted to send that message to someone?" she asked him, her dark blue eyes somber. "You; you wouldn't want to stay if I did," he murmured, stroking the soft velvet covering her arms. "Then, I guess I should go," she said, looking away before she could start crying again. "Wow, nice apartment!" Terry said, following Honey inside her apartment with the bag of her clothes. "The blood stains really bring the room together; "Say what you will, it's all mine," she said, hobbling over to the sofa and curling up, exhausted. "Here's your mail. I gotta text Zach, he's going nuts; well, more than usual, anyway," he said, handing her a stack of envelopes. "Arrived at hellhole; Angel has typhoid; the tweakers give their love; send food stamps," he said aloud, typing into his phone as Honey went through her mail. "Let me go set up the bath chair; just the thing to class up the joint," he said, disappearing to the bathroom. When Terry returned, he found Honey white as a sheet, reading a letter. "Whoa, kid; you okay? Need a pain pill? Let me take you back to Zach's. You look like you really do have typhoid; he said, kneeling down next to her. "Um; yeah, I'm fine," she said faintly, then cleared her throat. "Would; would you mind taking that laptop with you when you go deliver the charity gifts to the firm? They; asked me to send it back; probably upgrading; she said, quickly wiping the tears off her cheeks. Terry watched her for a long moment, his face grim, and don't mention it to Zach?" he finished. "Um; probably not?" Honey choked. "Ah, Honey; you have hospital bills. This is where a sensible person starts telling themself, 'Hey self, maybe I should go back to that really great guy that wants to take care of me," Terry said, closing her laptop and wrapping the power cord around it. "If he's such a great guy, why does he send people messages like this?" she asked, holding up the screenshot to him. After staring at the screen for a while, Terry let out a low whistle, "Now, see, Zach just puts it right out there. You gotta respect that. No wonder he got so much ass. He send this to you?" "He said he meant to send it to someone else, but what are you talking about? He sent this to me on our first date when he went to the restroom! I thought he wanted to kill me!" Terry canted his head and looked at the screenshot again, "Oh; yeah, I could see that. Especially if you got it without the dick pic," he said, nodding sympathetically. "No, see, this was sort of a sex S O S, if you will. A guy goes out with a girl like you, it's like a high-wire act. He gets all wound up, needs to blow off some steam, sends out a flare hoping someone can help him take the edge off things so you don't find out what a high-strung, rough sex freak he is. You're a big deal. He just didn't want to scare you off, Angel," Terry explained. "He; he wanted to go have sex with someone else after our date??" Honey yelled, incensed. "Only because he *liked* you so much!" Terry argued, winsomely. Just then, Honey's phone rang in his hand and he tapped the screen, "Honey's phone!" he answered. "Don't Ever Talk To Me Again!" Honey yelled at her phone when she saw it was Zach's number. "Ah yeah?" Terry said, holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah. Right. Be right over," he said, disconnecting the call and handing the phone back to Honey. "What did he say?" Honey asked, grinding her teeth. Terry leaned over and flipped her phone back to the screenshot that had frightened her so much, "Yeah; pretty much that; just without the sex. See you when I get out of the hospital, kid," he sighed. During the next week, Honey took a bus to the city hall offices and applied for unemployment, used the library computers to send out her resume and read her email, and got no calls whatsoever from Zach. Gatsby's, however, started having trouble with their delivery service and three meals a day were accidentally delivered to her disreputable apartment. When she called Gatsby's about it, she was assured they were working on it and were sure to fix the delivery service problem; as soon as they got a delivery service. The following week, Honey got a knock at her door. Promising herself she would open the door only for the pleasure of slamming it shut in the visitor's stupid, handsome face, Honey hobbled up and looked through the peep hole. It wasn't who she expected, though. "Um, hi; she said, opening the door a bit and tightening her robe. "Hi Honey, I'm Jeff. You probably don't remember;" "I remember you," Honey said, opening the door wider. "Please come in." "Thank you," he said, coming in and standing with his coat over his arm as she hobbled back to the couch. "Jeff, I always wanted to call Gatsby's and thank you; you know, for what you did," Honey said. "For the 'angel shot.' I didn't realize I was on a date with the owner, at the time. I hope it didn't make trouble for you," she said. "You're kidding, right? He fired me on the spot," Jeff laughed. "Oh no; she said, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay. He hired me back as a manager a couple weeks ago. Said anyone who had the balls to do what it took to protect you, even from him, that was someone he wanted taking care of his customers. Actually said that, looking back, if you had been scared enough to ask someone for help back then and they *didn't* help you, well, he'd probably want to go find them and; and; well, the details don't matter, and they're probably illegal, anyway. The point is, we're good." "Oh, that's; that's good to hear. Is this about the delivery service problem, then?" "We don't have a delivery service." "Well, yeah, I know. I mean the meals that Zach is making you send me." "Um; I'm probably going to get my life threatened for telling you this, but we're not sending you meals. Zach's popping in and out with a lot of takeout boxes under his arm, but Gatsby's isn't sending you any meals, Honey. That's; that's all Zach." "Oh; Honey said, her cheeks warming. "Yeah, no I came to ask if you'd be interested in a job." Honey laughed, "I appreciate it, but don't think I'd make much of a waitress right now." "Actually, I kinda had something else in mind; Honey's heart pounded as the music swelled and she felt the platform descend, her legs dangling down clad in candy cane striped stockings and curled-toe shoes. Her dress was the same pink velvet and white fur trim costume as before, but the fabric was far more luscious and expensive than the dress she'd worn in the mall. It had arrived at her door with a seamstress tasked with making it fit flawlessly. Honey's eyes were closed out of habit, getting ready to sing for the clientele of the great room as Gatsby's "Elf on a Shelf." She knew he was out there. He always came out of hiding when she sang. A smile curled across her face as she felt the spotlight warm her body. She opened her eyes. After the show, Honey stripped off her tights and a stage hand gave her the air cast as soon as the platform had risen out of sight. Gingerly, she eased her leg back into the boot and began strapping herself in again. As she reached the last fastener, two large hands took the straps out of hers and began wrapping them expertly. Honey blushed and looked aside as Zach did it, and tried not to roll her eyes when he checked the other two straps to be sure she had secured them properly. His eyes wandered over her with nervous adoration, like he still couldn't quite convince himself she was real; even after the mundane work of feeding her, dressing her, and cleaning her all those days up in his loft. "Did you like the show?" she asked quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. Zach sighed with relief, having received tacit permission to speak to her again. "Yes," he said. "Did you really like it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling, her smile growing bigger. "I really; really liked it," Zach said, nodding and pulling at the collar of the dress shirt that was having trouble containing him. He seemed to have only grown larger in their weeks apart. "So much that you want to go have rough sex with somebody else tonight?" she asked, her large and deceptively innocent, twinkling eyes skewering him. Zach's mouth set, "I; I don't do that anymore. I exercise," he said quietly, reddening and looking away from her. "Oh; I see," Honey said, nodding. Ignoring the hands he offered her, Honey rolled herself onto her good knee and clumsily pushed herself back up into a standing position, her skirt flashing him as she rose. "What the fuck is that?" Zach yelled, pulling her skirt up to where a large purpling bruise was blooming on her hip. Honey bit her lips and forced her face to stop grinning before she turned and faced him again. "What's what?" she asked innocently. "What the hell do you think? That fucking huge purple ass-shiner you're walking around with! Where the fuck did that come from?" he roared. "Oh, that? I slipped. You know, it's icy out there; she said brightly, patting his chest and hobbling past him to her dressing room. Zach clenched his hands and followed her, growling things under his breath that would make a sailor blush. She wobbled into the dressing room, leaving the door open behind her, wondering if he would follow her in. He didn't, but instead stood there in the doorway glowering at her like a gargoyle as she pulled some clothes out of a large Gatsby's takeout bag. Honey's ribs were beginning to hurt from trying not to laugh. Honey breath hissed through her teeth as she reached behind her, fumbling with the knot of her wide red ribbon belt, her shoulder still healing from the dislocation. Before long, she heard muttered curses and large feet stomp into the room and push her hands aside, untying the belt for her. She smiled her thanks up at him over her shoulder, and moved her hair aside so he could help her with the zipper. Carefully, he smoothed some more of her hairs aside and slowly lowered the clasp. "So, um; how would it have worked?" she asked quietly, the softness of her voice making him lean in to hear her. Zach cleared his throat, "How would what have worked?" he asked, his breath falling warm on her neck as he tried to unclasp the tiny hook at top of the dress with his large fingers. "If we'd gotten together that night; if I'd never got that message," she said. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head. "I would've taken you home. Maybe tried for a kiss at your door, if you looked like you wanted it," he said, his voice hoarse. "Cheek or lips?" she asked. He sighed, "Who am I kidding? I would've passed out from not breathing by the time I got that close." "And those; other things; would you have wanted to do those things to me? To hurt me; to scare me?" she asked, her voice shaking. Zach turned her to look her in the eye, and she wrapped her arms around herself, keeping the unzipped, loose elf dress from falling down. "No Honey," he swore, shaking his head emphatically, cupping her face and holding her tightly. "God no. Never. Never ever. I would've never let you see that side of me. I'd give it up. I gave it up. I'd go run ten miles before I even;" his impassioned vows were interrupted by a loud crack as a delicate hand slapped him across the face. "How dare you?" Honey said, trembling with fury before she winced and cradled her hand to her chest as Zach blinked slowly in disbelief, trying to process what had happened. "That's for deciding you'd just have a boring, unsatisfied sex life with me without even asking what I wanted, you; you overbearing ass! That's for offering only a part of yourself to me! That's for ruining our beautiful date because you were ashamed of the man I lo;" Honey's uncharacteristic rage was interrupted by Zach's mouth descending on hers and claiming it furiously, pressing her against the wall as her dress fell to the floor. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, and Zach pulled away from her, his face a twitching, terrifying storm as he stared down at her. He wrapped his hand around the slender wrist of her only functional arm and pressed it to the wall over her head. "You don't hit me like that; ever," he said quietly, breathing hard through flared nostrils. Honey trembled, staring up into his blazing eyes almost panting against him in terror; but also in something else. The corner of Zach's mouth curled when he saw her deep blue eyes dilate hugely, a heady, familiar scent rising up between them. "You don't fucking hit anyone like that; goddamn amateur. You wanna break your wrist? Jesus Christ. Get your ass dressed and I'll take you home, you little freak," he growled, turning around to give her privacy and hide the huge smile he couldn't stop from covering his face. When Honey came up panting for air, she was pressed against the wall of Zach's loft as he fumbled with the locks of his door with one hand. She was making good progress at getting his shirt off, but it kept bunching up around his arms, and the cuffs were still a problem she didn't even want to think about. Even so, she was blissfully occupied with the acres of warm bare skin and muscle that she had excavated. "This isn't my home; she said, looking around bewildered, "why does everyone get my address wrong?" "Probably because they've blocked it out after seeing your place. Shut up and tell me what you want," Zach said, carrying her over to the stairs until he saw a bit of her lower lip he needed to bite and had to take a break to do it properly. "Look, don't give me names, because then I'd have to kill 'em, but tell me what makes you hot, Honey; we're gonna do all of it and more. I'm making your dreams come true, tonight," he said, winding his hand in her hair as she dropped her head back to give him her neck. "Oh! Um; I liked it when;" "No names," he reminded her, covering her mouth. "Right; well, this one guy, he um; he wore a towel around his waist and bent over his dresser to look for his underwear? And this other time, he held this spoon out to me and I opened my mouth and he fed me. And; and; um; in the shower, he; he held me against him in the water and;" "Honey, are all these stories gonna be about me?" "Um; yeah?" "That's sweet of you, tryin' to keep me outta jail and all, but I need you to get to the part about cock and pussy. Stories about me aren't gonna help that. Cock, pussy, tongue, ass, tits, ears, neck, taint - what do you like?" he asked "Right; uh; I liked it when you washed me down there; my pussy; with your fingers?" Honey said, at a loss. Zach drew his head back from her neck and looked at her, his face growing uneasy. "Honey?" "And when you sprayed the water back and forth down there, especially the top bump part, that really made me feel amazing, kind of squirmy, you know?" "Oh Jesus; he said, looking as if he'd been hit in the head. "And um; I know I wasn't supposed to look, but your um; you know; p-penis; in the shower, when your underwear got wet? That was" "I don't feel so good; he said, lowering himself to the floor and sitting down on the stairs. "No, no, it's fine. We can do this. What's a taint and what do I do with it?" she asked, sitting down and cuddling up next to him. Zach held his head in his hands, "You're a virgin; not like an "everything but" Evangelical, but like an alien or something. I don't know if I can do this." "Look, I know how to have sex; I had health class, for Pete's sake!" she said, slapping his shoulder. "What the fuck did I just get myself into?" he said through his hands. Honey pulled his hands down from his face and climbed up in his lap, putting his arms around her and looping her arms around his neck. "Zach; I have been a very good girl; not just this year, but for a long, long time. I figure that makes it so I can ask for something really big. So, here's what I want: I want you and me; just being together. Not planned or rehearsed or trying to be impressive. You already impress me. You're the best person I know. You took care of me when you hated me. You took care of me, even when I hated you. I just want to see what it's like if we let go of all that and just; you know; love. Will you give me that for Christmas, Santa? Please?" she asked, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. "I've; never done that before," he said stiffly, looking sideways at her, unable to turn his head. "I'll be gentle with you," she whispered, smiling and brushing her lips against his. Climbing down from his lap, she took his hand in hers and led him up the stairs; until he lost patience with her hobbling and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the top. Honey smiled as he gently lowered her feet to the floor, then took his hand and worked on the buttons of his cuff, "You're really big, but you don't do that big guy thing where you act like nothing matters. You notice everything; I like that," she said, glancing up at him. Zach frowned, watching her and then looking around the room, uncomfortable. "That's just; you gotta do that. You can't just throw your weight around without knowing where it's going. You're gonna hurt someone that way," he demurred, unbuttoning the cuff for her and tugging the other loose, as well. "You give a lot, but you're not a show-off about it; you didn't even let me know it wasn't Gatsby's sending food to me," she said, pulling his shirt down off his shoulders, pressing her face into his back to smell him. "You needed protein, calcium, and vitamin D to build those bones again -- that ramen shit you eat wasn't gonna give you enough of anything; just empty carbs and fuckin' sodium," he argued, putting his hands on his hips and scowling at her. Honey smiled and nodded, unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling it out of the loops. Zach swallowed, "You; you also needed vitamins C and K, so I made sure you got things like broccoli and fish and citrus; not; not everybody knows that," he said, drawing a shaky breath. "I didn't know that," she said, separating the hook and eye of his trousers and unzipping them, smiling when he cleared his throat and breathed faster as she lowered them. "You're smart, but you don't need everyone to know about it. You watch how people treat you when they think you're simple, instead; you want to know who they really are." Zach pulled his legs out of his trousers and laid them carefully over the chair, glancing over to the closet where he really wanted to put them instead. Honey smirked and turned to go get a hanger for him, and he swept her down onto the bed instead, going to get the hanger for himself and carefully hanging his pants to avoid any creases. Zach returned to the bed, standing in front of her knees where she sat, waiting. Honey moved her hands curiously over his hips and thighs, feeling the strength, the hours of toil and exertion he put them through; so that he could have control and be gentle when he needed to be. "You care about what I want; she said, swallowing and slowly sliding his underwear down his hips, gasping in surprise when his cock bounced out and waved at her. "You care about it even when you think I'm wrong; and it makes me love you so much; she said, trailing off and blushing. "You; got my clothes off," he said, looking down at her, his face a mix of bewilderment and wonder. "I guess you see all of me, now," he said, blushing for the first time since she'd known him. Smiling, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside. She winced, reaching back trying to un-do her bra, and instead of helping her as usual, Zach narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Doing shit that hurts right in front of me instead of asking me for help. Showing off that fucking bruise to me at the club. Showing me what happens when I can't take care of you; you actually get off on driving me crazy," he said in outraged realization. "You really want to do that rough sex stuff on me, now, don't you," Honey said, her eyes alive with mischief. "Like you wouldn't believe; he said, flipping her over, straddling her back and unclasping her bra. Honey squealed and giggled when he laid himself out over her back, careful to avoid her shoulder and ankle. "You feel that cock, all hard and ready on your panties and between your legs down there? You don't get him now, brat," he growled, pushing her hair aside and biting the back of her neck. "Not until you beg me." "Okay! Please?" she asked, giggling. Zach looked over at her, trying to hold a stern face, "Yeah, that's not how this works. The way this works is, I make you want it so much that you think you're going out of your mind, and *then* you beg me." "Okay!" she chirped. "Oh, fucking hell; he grumbled, trying not to laugh. He nipped all over her back, enjoying her squeaks and gasps, wiggling under him as her need grew. She seemed completely unaware of how she was responding to him, but he proudly basked in her every flutter. He kissed down to the small of her back, hearing her breath stop and then resume at a pant when he began to lower her panties. "Zach; Zach; Honey whimpered. "Yes, Honey?" he smiled, kissing the top of the crease of her bottom, flicking it slightly with his tongue. "Does it; does it always go this slow?" she asked, raising her bottom to him and moaning when he slid his fingers through her crack, making her jump and then grab onto his thigh. "Are you in a hurry?" he murmured, stroking his fingers leisurely around her clit and into her vagina, "Some other pressing; engagement?" he asked, pressing his finger against her hymen and laughing evilly at her shocked, yet needful, reaction. "Yeah; it would feel good to have a hot deep cock in there, wouldn't it?" he asked, thrusting gently into her with his finger. "Zach; Honey moaned, squirming under him. "I like that word 'engagement; '" Zach mused idly, "don't you?" he asked, raising one of her knees up to her side, sliding his cock along her crack, wetting it until it glistened in her juices. "Zach, please; please; please; she gasped, feeling him rise up over her again, pressing against her entry, "I need you; she whispered. "I need you, too, Honey. I've needed you for so long; he answered, parting her lips and moving into her with slow, gentle thrusts. Honey trembled under him, holding her breath, feeling him fill her more and more, until with a slight sharp pain, she took him into her. "Oh; oh; oh; oh; she whimpered. "Just breathe, Honey. You're doing great; perfect. I'm not moving till you're ready," Zach said, reaching deep for control. A sheen of sweat broke over him at the sheer effort of holding himself back from plunging furiously into her body again and again and again. "Is; is this the rough sex part?" she breathed, reaching out to touch the hand he was using to keep most of his weight off her. Zach barked out a breathless laugh, clasping her hand in his, "I don't know about you, but this is about as rough as I can take it, tonight. You're fucking killing me, right now. But, being inside you; it's like magic." Honey moved her head and kissed his forearm, "Be inside me again, Zach; she whispered. With a low sigh, he began moving inside her, his hips pressing and rolling against her, his cock stroking a patient rhythm. She sighed with happiness, feeling him explore and claim her at the same time. His lips moved over her neck and back as he leisurely took her, whispering praise and encouragements, waiting for her to adjust to him. Before long, though, his words stopped, his body growing harder around her, his every muscle stiffening as he gripped her hand harder, his thrusts quickening until, with a soft, surprised grunt, he thrust deep and shook as he emptied himself inside her. With explosive breaths, he rolled off her, pulling her against him in the bed. "Well, fuck; he said in disgust between gasps. "Yeah; Honey said, snuggling back against him happily, "that was perfect; Zach snorted, "No it wasn't, you noob. You didn't come. I fucked it up." "What do you mean? What makes you think I didn't come? That felt great! Let's do that all the time," Honey said, turning in his arms so she could smile at him. "I would've felt it if you came, Honey; it gets tight and squeezes you, almost like it's sucking on you; drinking you down; he said, smiling down at her with rueful affection. "Well, I don't know how it's supposed to get any tighter than that was. I think you're expecting too much of me. Maybe I did come; she argued. "Honey, trust me; when I make you come, you'll know about it," he said, reaching down and caressing her clit with his fingers. "Oh, that's nice; you did that in the shower," Honey cooed, moving her boot up over his hips so he could reach her more easily. "I didn't fucking do this to you in the shower. I fucking washed you. I was a fucking gentleman. People cut diamonds with less fucking focus than I had in that fucking shower. I was just taking care of business, then," he grumbled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. "I guess; I guess, I took advantage of you, then; s-sorry; oh; she said, raising her hips to him as her breathing became irregular, her head tossing from side to side. "Well, unless I'm wrong, you are about to really pay for it in 3, 2, 1" Zach said, when Honey screamed high and long, her hips bucking as she came hard, covering his hand in her sweet nectar and then bursting into tears. Zach held her close as Honey wailed in pain, stroking her body gently, "Yeah; see, that boot can do a lot, but it can't do squat about it when every muscle in your body wants to stiffen up as you come," he said, still soothing her. Honey slapped his shoulder, "That; that was mean! Don't you ever make me come again!" she panted against him, her face still twisted in slowly receding pain. "Uh huh; Zach said, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "we'll see how long that lasts, you little freak," he said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss her tears away.  To be continued in part 3, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 2 Life in hob-along mode. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When she woke the next morning, Zach was standing next to the bed with a pain pill and a glass of water. "Terry's gonna be here in about half an hour. I could make you some breakfast?" he said, putting the pill and the water into her hand. Honey shook her head, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'd; I'd like to take a shower before I go; if that's okay," she asked. "Right; uh; I'll just set it up for you. I'll get your things together after you're done in there; if you still want to go, that is; Honey closed her eyes and nodded, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to look at the silent pleading in his face. When the shower was ready, Zach carried her down the stairs and set her down in his large walk-in shower on the bathing chair he'd set up for her. "I, uh; I warmed up the water. The; soap and shampoo stuff is right here," he said, gesturing to a collection of bottles put down within her reach. "If you need anything, I'll be right; right here," he said, sitting down on the toilet, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Honey nodded and took off her nightgown and panties, putting them on the floor outside the shower. She leaned down and began unwrapping the velcro the straps on her boot, finding that she couldn't reach the last one. She opened her mouth to ask for help, but Zach was already sliding the door open to undo it for her. When he disassembled the boot around her foot and lifted it away, a slight whimper escaped her when the motion bumped her ankle slightly. Zach's eyes flashed to hers as she tried to cover herself with her arms, "I'm okay," she whispered. Clenching his jaw, Zach nodded, stood and left the stall. The water felt like heaven after the sad sponge baths she had given herself in bed. Her skin came alive in the heat and flushed a deep pink. "Is that too hot? You're getting red," Zach said, standing next to the door looking concerned. "No; it's perfect," she sighed. She twisted around to reach the shampoo and tipped it over, groaning as she watched it roll out of reach. Zach reached into the stall and returned it to her, growling in annoyance as he watched her try to squeeze some out with only one fully functional arm. Soon, he stepped into the shower with her, clad only in his underwear. "I don't know how you think you're going to do this by yourself; he grumbled, glaring at her as he massaged the shampoo into her long hair. "I'll figure it out; put a folding chair in the tub or something," she said, trying not to notice that the fabric of his underwear was leaving nothing to the imagination the wetter it got. "A fucking folding chair will slip. I'll send this one with you. You still can't reach shit, though." "I haven't done this before. I'll get better as I go." "Yeah, but until then, you'll; Look, you need to give me a call when you; so that I know you're okay." "You wouldn't be able to hear me talk; the water makes this growling noise," she said. "Well, why the fu; never mind. You call me before and after. No longer than 10 minutes, or I send Terry." "And he just does whatever you tell him? You're really kinda bossy." "Glad we sorted that out. Put your head back." With a smirk, Honey leaned back, letting him support her with his arm as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. After one minute, Zach began swearing under his breath. "I've been rinsing this shit out of your hair forever and there's still more! How the fuck is this possible?" Honey began giggling, despite the pain it caused her shoulder. "I guess you should allow me longer than 10 minutes to shower, then; she murmured. "Ten fucking minutes, or I send Terry." "Do you have any conditioner?" "Any what?" "Never mind," Honey said, trying to control her face. When he finally released her from being rinsed, Honey grabbed the loofa and put some body wash on it, washing what she could reach with her right arm while Zach glared down at her. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he grated, roughly taking the fluffy sponge from her and then washing her with surprising gentleness. When he delicately supported and washed her broken ankle, he waited until he finished before looking up at her, "Remember, doctor says you can take off your boot for a while now and then, so that should help with the smell. I'll pack the extra sock so you can put a clean one on and wash the; well, just how the fuck are you going to do the laundry?" he asked, as if she created the concept of dirty laundry just to bother him. "Hand wash?" she suggested. "That won't work for these boot socks! They smell like gangrene or some shi;" "Well, now you're just flirting; she said, smiling up at him. For a moment Zach's face went completely blank, his eyes slowly traveling down her naked body as his face turned bright red, then he turned away and cursed under his breath again. "Grab onto my arm and I'll finish you up," he said, clenching his jaw and holding out his forearm to her, as he diligently looked away. Cautiously, she took his arm and tried to stand, rising wobbly on her left leg. Before she could gain her balance, her hand slipped on his wet arm and he pulled her tightly against him before she could fall. Body to body, they clung on to each other in the hot spray, each of them shaking. "Honey; you may notta noticed, but I'm hanging on by a fucking thread, here," Zach said quietly in her ear, "Try not to get yourself killed for two seconds." Honey nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist so that he could move his arms again. She felt him move the loofah between her legs and begin washing her private area, looking around the shower stall as he did. When Honey cringed and her breath hissed between her teeth, he stopped, "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at her face. "It's; rough; she said, quietly. "Yeah, but it was fine when; oh; right; sensitive. Okay; he said, swallowing as he tossed the loofah aside and hesitantly reached his fingers between her legs. Honey leaned her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes, gasping when his fingers made contact. "Is that; is that okay?" he asked. She nodded and tried to move her legs further apart for him. Zach gently washed her, trying to think of sports scores, laxative commercials, or the accounts payable at the club, but inevitably his cock noticed that he was holding the woman of his dreams naked in his arms. When she shifted against him, trying to keep her balance, a breathy grunt escaped him as she inadvertently rubbed against him. "I'm sorry; she whispered, trying to give him more room. "Don't be; you're perfect; it's fine; he said, trying to think about anything but how it would feel to slide his cock between her slippery lips right at that moment. "Let me just get the; water; he gritted, reaching for the shower sprayer and directing it between her legs. Honey gasped and whimpered as the water pulsed against her clit, down her labia and over her anus again and again, feeling Zach's eyes on her as he did it, intensely absorbing her every reaction. She trembled as she held on to him, trying to remain calm. Finally, she raised her eyes up to him and opened her wet lips and whispered, "Zach; ?" "Hey, how do you guys want your eggs?" Terry asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. "Get The Fuck Out Of Here, Maggot!" Zach roared, as Honey squealed and released him, quickly ducking down to where Terry couldn't see her on the shower chair. "Scrambled, it is," Terry said, ducking out of the bathroom and leaving them alone again. Zach watched Honey begin to shiver as the room cooled off and handed her a towel. "Let me know when you're dry and I'll wrap up your leg again," he said, looking around the bathroom uncomfortably before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off his wet underwear from underneath. After securing her ankle in the air cast, Zach carried her back up to the bedroom, turned his back to her, and blocked Terry's kitchen view of the loft as Honey dressed. When she finished, Zach turned around again, his mouth hardening into a grim line when he saw she had put on her elf dress again. "You're; going, then," he said, frowning as he watched her wince at the pain in her shoulder as she tried to tie the thick red ribbon belt behind her back. He stepped behind her and took the belt out of her hands and began brusquely tying it. "I want you to stay," he said to the back of her head, tugging the loops into a tight knot. Honey hobbled around to face him, "Enough to tell me why you wanted to send that message to someone?" she asked him, her dark blue eyes somber. "You; you wouldn't want to stay if I did," he murmured, stroking the soft velvet covering her arms. "Then, I guess I should go," she said, looking away before she could start crying again. "Wow, nice apartment!" Terry said, following Honey inside her apartment with the bag of her clothes. "The blood stains really bring the room together; "Say what you will, it's all mine," she said, hobbling over to the sofa and curling up, exhausted. "Here's your mail. I gotta text Zach, he's going nuts; well, more than usual, anyway," he said, handing her a stack of envelopes. "Arrived at hellhole; Angel has typhoid; the tweakers give their love; send food stamps," he said aloud, typing into his phone as Honey went through her mail. "Let me go set up the bath chair; just the thing to class up the joint," he said, disappearing to the bathroom. When Terry returned, he found Honey white as a sheet, reading a letter. "Whoa, kid; you okay? Need a pain pill? Let me take you back to Zach's. You look like you really do have typhoid; he said, kneeling down next to her. "Um; yeah, I'm fine," she said faintly, then cleared her throat. "Would; would you mind taking that laptop with you when you go deliver the charity gifts to the firm? They; asked me to send it back; probably upgrading; she said, quickly wiping the tears off her cheeks. Terry watched her for a long moment, his face grim, and don't mention it to Zach?" he finished. "Um; probably not?" Honey choked. "Ah, Honey; you have hospital bills. This is where a sensible person starts telling themself, 'Hey self, maybe I should go back to that really great guy that wants to take care of me," Terry said, closing her laptop and wrapping the power cord around it. "If he's such a great guy, why does he send people messages like this?" she asked, holding up the screenshot to him. After staring at the screen for a while, Terry let out a low whistle, "Now, see, Zach just puts it right out there. You gotta respect that. No wonder he got so much ass. He send this to you?" "He said he meant to send it to someone else, but what are you talking about? He sent this to me on our first date when he went to the restroom! I thought he wanted to kill me!" Terry canted his head and looked at the screenshot again, "Oh; yeah, I could see that. Especially if you got it without the dick pic," he said, nodding sympathetically. "No, see, this was sort of a sex S O S, if you will. A guy goes out with a girl like you, it's like a high-wire act. He gets all wound up, needs to blow off some steam, sends out a flare hoping someone can help him take the edge off things so you don't find out what a high-strung, rough sex freak he is. You're a big deal. He just didn't want to scare you off, Angel," Terry explained. "He; he wanted to go have sex with someone else after our date??" Honey yelled, incensed. "Only because he *liked* you so much!" Terry argued, winsomely. Just then, Honey's phone rang in his hand and he tapped the screen, "Honey's phone!" he answered. "Don't Ever Talk To Me Again!" Honey yelled at her phone when she saw it was Zach's number. "Ah yeah?" Terry said, holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah. Right. Be right over," he said, disconnecting the call and handing the phone back to Honey. "What did he say?" Honey asked, grinding her teeth. Terry leaned over and flipped her phone back to the screenshot that had frightened her so much, "Yeah; pretty much that; just without the sex. See you when I get out of the hospital, kid," he sighed. During the next week, Honey took a bus to the city hall offices and applied for unemployment, used the library computers to send out her resume and read her email, and got no calls whatsoever from Zach. Gatsby's, however, started having trouble with their delivery service and three meals a day were accidentally delivered to her disreputable apartment. When she called Gatsby's about it, she was assured they were working on it and were sure to fix the delivery service problem; as soon as they got a delivery service. The following week, Honey got a knock at her door. Promising herself she would open the door only for the pleasure of slamming it shut in the visitor's stupid, handsome face, Honey hobbled up and looked through the peep hole. It wasn't who she expected, though. "Um, hi; she said, opening the door a bit and tightening her robe. "Hi Honey, I'm Jeff. You probably don't remember;" "I remember you," Honey said, opening the door wider. "Please come in." "Thank you," he said, coming in and standing with his coat over his arm as she hobbled back to the couch. "Jeff, I always wanted to call Gatsby's and thank you; you know, for what you did," Honey said. "For the 'angel shot.' I didn't realize I was on a date with the owner, at the time. I hope it didn't make trouble for you," she said. "You're kidding, right? He fired me on the spot," Jeff laughed. "Oh no; she said, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay. He hired me back as a manager a couple weeks ago. Said anyone who had the balls to do what it took to protect you, even from him, that was someone he wanted taking care of his customers. Actually said that, looking back, if you had been scared enough to ask someone for help back then and they *didn't* help you, well, he'd probably want to go find them and; and; well, the details don't matter, and they're probably illegal, anyway. The point is, we're good." "Oh, that's; that's good to hear. Is this about the delivery service problem, then?" "We don't have a delivery service." "Well, yeah, I know. I mean the meals that Zach is making you send me." "Um; I'm probably going to get my life threatened for telling you this, but we're not sending you meals. Zach's popping in and out with a lot of takeout boxes under his arm, but Gatsby's isn't sending you any meals, Honey. That's; that's all Zach." "Oh; Honey said, her cheeks warming. "Yeah, no I came to ask if you'd be interested in a job." Honey laughed, "I appreciate it, but don't think I'd make much of a waitress right now." "Actually, I kinda had something else in mind; Honey's heart pounded as the music swelled and she felt the platform descend, her legs dangling down clad in candy cane striped stockings and curled-toe shoes. Her dress was the same pink velvet and white fur trim costume as before, but the fabric was far more luscious and expensive than the dress she'd worn in the mall. It had arrived at her door with a seamstress tasked with making it fit flawlessly. Honey's eyes were closed out of habit, getting ready to sing for the clientele of the great room as Gatsby's "Elf on a Shelf." She knew he was out there. He always came out of hiding when she sang. A smile curled across her face as she felt the spotlight warm her body. She opened her eyes. After the show, Honey stripped off her tights and a stage hand gave her the air cast as soon as the platform had risen out of sight. Gingerly, she eased her leg back into the boot and began strapping herself in again. As she reached the last fastener, two large hands took the straps out of hers and began wrapping them expertly. Honey blushed and looked aside as Zach did it, and tried not to roll her eyes when he checked the other two straps to be sure she had secured them properly. His eyes wandered over her with nervous adoration, like he still couldn't quite convince himself she was real; even after the mundane work of feeding her, dressing her, and cleaning her all those days up in his loft. "Did you like the show?" she asked quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. Zach sighed with relief, having received tacit permission to speak to her again. "Yes," he said. "Did you really like it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling, her smile growing bigger. "I really; really liked it," Zach said, nodding and pulling at the collar of the dress shirt that was having trouble containing him. He seemed to have only grown larger in their weeks apart. "So much that you want to go have rough sex with somebody else tonight?" she asked, her large and deceptively innocent, twinkling eyes skewering him. Zach's mouth set, "I; I don't do that anymore. I exercise," he said quietly, reddening and looking away from her. "Oh; I see," Honey said, nodding. Ignoring the hands he offered her, Honey rolled herself onto her good knee and clumsily pushed herself back up into a standing position, her skirt flashing him as she rose. "What the fuck is that?" Zach yelled, pulling her skirt up to where a large purpling bruise was blooming on her hip. Honey bit her lips and forced her face to stop grinning before she turned and faced him again. "What's what?" she asked innocently. "What the hell do you think? That fucking huge purple ass-shiner you're walking around with! Where the fuck did that come from?" he roared. "Oh, that? I slipped. You know, it's icy out there; she said brightly, patting his chest and hobbling past him to her dressing room. Zach clenched his hands and followed her, growling things under his breath that would make a sailor blush. She wobbled into the dressing room, leaving the door open behind her, wondering if he would follow her in. He didn't, but instead stood there in the doorway glowering at her like a gargoyle as she pulled some clothes out of a large Gatsby's takeout bag. Honey's ribs were beginning to hurt from trying not to laugh. Honey breath hissed through her teeth as she reached behind her, fumbling with the knot of her wide red ribbon belt, her shoulder still healing from the dislocation. Before long, she heard muttered curses and large feet stomp into the room and push her hands aside, untying the belt for her. She smiled her thanks up at him over her shoulder, and moved her hair aside so he could help her with the zipper. Carefully, he smoothed some more of her hairs aside and slowly lowered the clasp. "So, um; how would it have worked?" she asked quietly, the softness of her voice making him lean in to hear her. Zach cleared his throat, "How would what have worked?" he asked, his breath falling warm on her neck as he tried to unclasp the tiny hook at top of the dress with his large fingers. "If we'd gotten together that night; if I'd never got that message," she said. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head. "I would've taken you home. Maybe tried for a kiss at your door, if you looked like you wanted it," he said, his voice hoarse. "Cheek or lips?" she asked. He sighed, "Who am I kidding? I would've passed out from not breathing by the time I got that close." "And those; other things; would you have wanted to do those things to me? To hurt me; to scare me?" she asked, her voice shaking. Zach turned her to look her in the eye, and she wrapped her arms around herself, keeping the unzipped, loose elf dress from falling down. "No Honey," he swore, shaking his head emphatically, cupping her face and holding her tightly. "God no. Never. Never ever. I would've never let you see that side of me. I'd give it up. I gave it up. I'd go run ten miles before I even;" his impassioned vows were interrupted by a loud crack as a delicate hand slapped him across the face. "How dare you?" Honey said, trembling with fury before she winced and cradled her hand to her chest as Zach blinked slowly in disbelief, trying to process what had happened. "That's for deciding you'd just have a boring, unsatisfied sex life with me without even asking what I wanted, you; you overbearing ass! That's for offering only a part of yourself to me! That's for ruining our beautiful date because you were ashamed of the man I lo;" Honey's uncharacteristic rage was interrupted by Zach's mouth descending on hers and claiming it furiously, pressing her against the wall as her dress fell to the floor. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, and Zach pulled away from her, his face a twitching, terrifying storm as he stared down at her. He wrapped his hand around the slender wrist of her only functional arm and pressed it to the wall over her head. "You don't hit me like that; ever," he said quietly, breathing hard through flared nostrils. Honey trembled, staring up into his blazing eyes almost panting against him in terror; but also in something else. The corner of Zach's mouth curled when he saw her deep blue eyes dilate hugely, a heady, familiar scent rising up between them. "You don't fucking hit anyone like that; goddamn amateur. You wanna break your wrist? Jesus Christ. Get your ass dressed and I'll take you home, you little freak," he growled, turning around to give her privacy and hide the huge smile he couldn't stop from covering his face. When Honey came up panting for air, she was pressed against the wall of Zach's loft as he fumbled with the locks of his door with one hand. She was making good progress at getting his shirt off, but it kept bunching up around his arms, and the cuffs were still a problem she didn't even want to think about. Even so, she was blissfully occupied with the acres of warm bare skin and muscle that she had excavated. "This isn't my home; she said, looking around bewildered, "why does everyone get my address wrong?" "Probably because they've blocked it out after seeing your place. Shut up and tell me what you want," Zach said, carrying her over to the stairs until he saw a bit of her lower lip he needed to bite and had to take a break to do it properly. "Look, don't give me names, because then I'd have to kill 'em, but tell me what makes you hot, Honey; we're gonna do all of it and more. I'm making your dreams come true, tonight," he said, winding his hand in her hair as she dropped her head back to give him her neck. "Oh! Um; I liked it when;" "No names," he reminded her, covering her mouth. "Right; well, this one guy, he um; he wore a towel around his waist and bent over his dresser to look for his underwear? And this other time, he held this spoon out to me and I opened my mouth and he fed me. And; and; um; in the shower, he; he held me against him in the water and;" "Honey, are all these stories gonna be about me?" "Um; yeah?" "That's sweet of you, tryin' to keep me outta jail and all, but I need you to get to the part about cock and pussy. Stories about me aren't gonna help that. Cock, pussy, tongue, ass, tits, ears, neck, taint - what do you like?" he asked "Right; uh; I liked it when you washed me down there; my pussy; with your fingers?" Honey said, at a loss. Zach drew his head back from her neck and looked at her, his face growing uneasy. "Honey?" "And when you sprayed the water back and forth down there, especially the top bump part, that really made me feel amazing, kind of squirmy, you know?" "Oh Jesus; he said, looking as if he'd been hit in the head. "And um; I know I wasn't supposed to look, but your um; you know; p-penis; in the shower, when your underwear got wet? That was" "I don't feel so good; he said, lowering himself to the floor and sitting down on the stairs. "No, no, it's fine. We can do this. What's a taint and what do I do with it?" she asked, sitting down and cuddling up next to him. Zach held his head in his hands, "You're a virgin; not like an "everything but" Evangelical, but like an alien or something. I don't know if I can do this." "Look, I know how to have sex; I had health class, for Pete's sake!" she said, slapping his shoulder. "What the fuck did I just get myself into?" he said through his hands. Honey pulled his hands down from his face and climbed up in his lap, putting his arms around her and looping her arms around his neck. "Zach; I have been a very good girl; not just this year, but for a long, long time. I figure that makes it so I can ask for something really big. So, here's what I want: I want you and me; just being together. Not planned or rehearsed or trying to be impressive. You already impress me. You're the best person I know. You took care of me when you hated me. You took care of me, even when I hated you. I just want to see what it's like if we let go of all that and just; you know; love. Will you give me that for Christmas, Santa? Please?" she asked, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. "I've; never done that before," he said stiffly, looking sideways at her, unable to turn his head. "I'll be gentle with you," she whispered, smiling and brushing her lips against his. Climbing down from his lap, she took his hand in hers and led him up the stairs; until he lost patience with her hobbling and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the top. Honey smiled as he gently lowered her feet to the floor, then took his hand and worked on the buttons of his cuff, "You're really big, but you don't do that big guy thing where you act like nothing matters. You notice everything; I like that," she said, glancing up at him. Zach frowned, watching her and then looking around the room, uncomfortable. "That's just; you gotta do that. You can't just throw your weight around without knowing where it's going. You're gonna hurt someone that way," he demurred, unbuttoning the cuff for her and tugging the other loose, as well. "You give a lot, but you're not a show-off about it; you didn't even let me know it wasn't Gatsby's sending food to me," she said, pulling his shirt down off his shoulders, pressing her face into his back to smell him. "You needed protein, calcium, and vitamin D to build those bones again -- that ramen shit you eat wasn't gonna give you enough of anything; just empty carbs and fuckin' sodium," he argued, putting his hands on his hips and scowling at her. Honey smiled and nodded, unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling it out of the loops. Zach swallowed, "You; you also needed vitamins C and K, so I made sure you got things like broccoli and fish and citrus; not; not everybody knows that," he said, drawing a shaky breath. "I didn't know that," she said, separating the hook and eye of his trousers and unzipping them, smiling when he cleared his throat and breathed faster as she lowered them. "You're smart, but you don't need everyone to know about it. You watch how people treat you when they think you're simple, instead; you want to know who they really are." Zach pulled his legs out of his trousers and laid them carefully over the chair, glancing over to the closet where he really wanted to put them instead. Honey smirked and turned to go get a hanger for him, and he swept her down onto the bed instead, going to get the hanger for himself and carefully hanging his pants to avoid any creases. Zach returned to the bed, standing in front of her knees where she sat, waiting. Honey moved her hands curiously over his hips and thighs, feeling the strength, the hours of toil and exertion he put them through; so that he could have control and be gentle when he needed to be. "You care about what I want; she said, swallowing and slowly sliding his underwear down his hips, gasping in surprise when his cock bounced out and waved at her. "You care about it even when you think I'm wrong; and it makes me love you so much; she said, trailing off and blushing. "You; got my clothes off," he said, looking down at her, his face a mix of bewilderment and wonder. "I guess you see all of me, now," he said, blushing for the first time since she'd known him. Smiling, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside. She winced, reaching back trying to un-do her bra, and instead of helping her as usual, Zach narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Doing shit that hurts right in front of me instead of asking me for help. Showing off that fucking bruise to me at the club. Showing me what happens when I can't take care of you; you actually get off on driving me crazy," he said in outraged realization. "You really want to do that rough sex stuff on me, now, don't you," Honey said, her eyes alive with mischief. "Like you wouldn't believe; he said, flipping her over, straddling her back and unclasping her bra. Honey squealed and giggled when he laid himself out over her back, careful to avoid her shoulder and ankle. "You feel that cock, all hard and ready on your panties and between your legs down there? You don't get him now, brat," he growled, pushing her hair aside and biting the back of her neck. "Not until you beg me." "Okay! Please?" she asked, giggling. Zach looked over at her, trying to hold a stern face, "Yeah, that's not how this works. The way this works is, I make you want it so much that you think you're going out of your mind, and *then* you beg me." "Okay!" she chirped. "Oh, fucking hell; he grumbled, trying not to laugh. He nipped all over her back, enjoying her squeaks and gasps, wiggling under him as her need grew. She seemed completely unaware of how she was responding to him, but he proudly basked in her every flutter. He kissed down to the small of her back, hearing her breath stop and then resume at a pant when he began to lower her panties. "Zach; Zach; Honey whimpered. "Yes, Honey?" he smiled, kissing the top of the crease of her bottom, flicking it slightly with his tongue. "Does it; does it always go this slow?" she asked, raising her bottom to him and moaning when he slid his fingers through her crack, making her jump and then grab onto his thigh. "Are you in a hurry?" he murmured, stroking his fingers leisurely around her clit and into her vagina, "Some other pressing; engagement?" he asked, pressing his finger against her hymen and laughing evilly at her shocked, yet needful, reaction. "Yeah; it would feel good to have a hot deep cock in there, wouldn't it?" he asked, thrusting gently into her with his finger. "Zach; Honey moaned, squirming under him. "I like that word 'engagement; '" Zach mused idly, "don't you?" he asked, raising one of her knees up to her side, sliding his cock along her crack, wetting it until it glistened in her juices. "Zach, please; please; please; she gasped, feeling him rise up over her again, pressing against her entry, "I need you; she whispered. "I need you, too, Honey. I've needed you for so long; he answered, parting her lips and moving into her with slow, gentle thrusts. Honey trembled under him, holding her breath, feeling him fill her more and more, until with a slight sharp pain, she took him into her. "Oh; oh; oh; oh; she whimpered. "Just breathe, Honey. You're doing great; perfect. I'm not moving till you're ready," Zach said, reaching deep for control. A sheen of sweat broke over him at the sheer effort of holding himself back from plunging furiously into her body again and again and again. "Is; is this the rough sex part?" she breathed, reaching out to touch the hand he was using to keep most of his weight off her. Zach barked out a breathless laugh, clasping her hand in his, "I don't know about you, but this is about as rough as I can take it, tonight. You're fucking killing me, right now. But, being inside you; it's like magic." Honey moved her head and kissed his forearm, "Be inside me again, Zach; she whispered. With a low sigh, he began moving inside her, his hips pressing and rolling against her, his cock stroking a patient rhythm. She sighed with happiness, feeling him explore and claim her at the same time. His lips moved over her neck and back as he leisurely took her, whispering praise and encouragements, waiting for her to adjust to him. Before long, though, his words stopped, his body growing harder around her, his every muscle stiffening as he gripped her hand harder, his thrusts quickening until, with a soft, surprised grunt, he thrust deep and shook as he emptied himself inside her. With explosive breaths, he rolled off her, pulling her against him in the bed. "Well, fuck; he said in disgust between gasps. "Yeah; Honey said, snuggling back against him happily, "that was perfect; Zach snorted, "No it wasn't, you noob. You didn't come. I fucked it up." "What do you mean? What makes you think I didn't come? That felt great! Let's do that all the time," Honey said, turning in his arms so she could smile at him. "I would've felt it if you came, Honey; it gets tight and squeezes you, almost like it's sucking on you; drinking you down; he said, smiling down at her with rueful affection. "Well, I don't know how it's supposed to get any tighter than that was. I think you're expecting too much of me. Maybe I did come; she argued. "Honey, trust me; when I make you come, you'll know about it," he said, reaching down and caressing her clit with his fingers. "Oh, that's nice; you did that in the shower," Honey cooed, moving her boot up over his hips so he could reach her more easily. "I didn't fucking do this to you in the shower. I fucking washed you. I was a fucking gentleman. People cut diamonds with less fucking focus than I had in that fucking shower. I was just taking care of business, then," he grumbled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. "I guess; I guess, I took advantage of you, then; s-sorry; oh; she said, raising her hips to him as her breathing became irregular, her head tossing from side to side. "Well, unless I'm wrong, you are about to really pay for it in 3, 2, 1" Zach said, when Honey screamed high and long, her hips bucking as she came hard, covering his hand in her sweet nectar and then bursting into tears. Zach held her close as Honey wailed in pain, stroking her body gently, "Yeah; see, that boot can do a lot, but it can't do squat about it when every muscle in your body wants to stiffen up as you come," he said, still soothing her. Honey slapped his shoulder, "That; that was mean! Don't you ever make me come again!" she panted against him, her face still twisted in slowly receding pain. "Uh huh; Zach said, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "we'll see how long that lasts, you little freak," he said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss her tears away.  To be continued in part 3, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Have you ever had a small, uncomfortable feeling that something isn't quite right for your child – and then immediately talked yourself out of it? In this episode, I talk about that quiet gut feeling many parents have and why it matters. The one that whispers “something's off” even when others say, “They'll grow out of it” or *“You're overthinking it.” Drawing on my work as a psychologist, I unpack why parental intuition is information, not overreaction. We explore why it's so easy to dismiss our concerns, how this can delay support, and why listening earlier can actually reduce stress for both you and your child. This episode is especially helpful if you're wondering: Whether your child's struggles are “normal” or need support If you're overreacting or actually picking up on something important When the right time is to ask for help Why that uneasy feeling keeps coming back You'll also be guided through gentle reflection questions to help you tune into what your gut may be trying to tell you – about your child and about what you need as a parent. If you've been thinking, “Do I need help?”, that question alone might already be your answer.

Welcome to the DMF! I'm Justin Younts, and in this episode, Christine La Monte shares an extraordinary creative journey that began in Rome in 2012. That pivotal moment marked her introduction to a gifted young filmmaker, Maxime Derevenko, who would later emerge as an influential voice in the worlds of opera and film.Christine reflects on how their collaboration grew through shared curiosity, mentorship, and artistic trust—eventually leading to a powerful opera project rooted in themes of social justice, peace, and human connection. As the world entered the uncertainty of the pandemic, this work took on even greater meaning, becoming a testament to the resilience of artists and the enduring power of creativity.She discusses the profound experience of collaborating with Ai Weiwei and the Rome Opera House, and how that partnership offered a bold, global perspective on art's role in times of crisis. Despite having only eight performances, the opera stood as a beacon of hope and reflection during a moment when art felt more essential than ever.Christine emphasizes the importance of mentorship and nurturing emerging talent, sharing how storytelling through art can elevate consciousness and inspire meaningful dialogue. In this conversation, she invites us to explore a world where every voice matters and creativity becomes a force for change.Join us as we celebrate the power of collaboration, storytelling, and art's ability to guide us toward a brighter future.00:00:00 - Introduction00:00:06 - Beginning of Film Career00:00:25 - Meeting Maxime Derevenko00:01:55 - Working with Ai Weiwei00:04:42 - Impact of COVID-1900:05:31 - Restarting in 202200:06:59 - Reflections on the Film00:07:47 - Film's Oscar Consideration00:08:22 - Role of Activism00:09:19 - Teaching at the School of Visual Arts00:11:01 - Reflections on Film Industry00:12:22 - Looking Back at Career00:13:31 - Passion for Teaching00:14:47 - Importance of Art and Culture00:16:20 - Closing Thoughts00:17:04 - Conclusion

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King Charles has spoken out in support of persecuted Christians around the world after attending a service at Westminster Abbey dedicated to those facing violence and discrimination for their faith. It comes amid renewed international focus on the treatment of Christians, after Donald Trump threatened action against Nigeria over killings, and comedian Bill Maher described the situation there as a “genocide”.Tim Stanley is joined by Father Benedict Kiely who runs Nasarean.org, a charity that advocates on behalf of Christians and helps them to stay in their countries by funding start-ups. They talk about the Middle East, what is happening in Nigeria and the status of Christians today. We want to hear from you! Email us at thedailyt@telegraph.co.uk or find @dailytpodcast on TikTok, Instagram and X► Sign up to our most popular newsletter, From the Editor. Look forward to receiving free-thinking comment and the day's biggest stories, every morning. telegraph.co.uk/fromtheeditorProducer: Lilian Fawcett and Georgia CoanSenior Producer: David LeveneExecutive Producer: Louisa WellsVideo Producer: Andy MackenzieStudio Operator: Meghan SearleSocial Producer: Nada AggourEditor: Camilla Tominey Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Thrive, a global technology outsourcing provider, is pursuing a $1 billion market position by the end of 2029, following significant revenue growth and 27 acquisitions since its inception. The company is focusing on enhancing its service offerings, particularly in managed artificial intelligence services, through a $100 million investment in its next-gen 3.0 platform. This shift raises critical questions for Managed Service Providers (MSPs) regarding who controls decision-making in IT operations as AI begins to play a more active role in execution rather than merely advisory functions. The integration of AI into managed services could lead to a concentration of power upstream, potentially undermining the authority and accountability of MSPs.Recent data on IT leadership diversity reveals that representation has stagnated, with 83% of IT leaders being white and over 78% male. This lack of diversity in leadership roles can create strategic blind spots, particularly as technology evolves rapidly. The report indicates that while there has been some improvement in gender representation among larger companies, racial diversity remains largely unchanged. This stability in leadership demographics may limit the perspectives necessary for effective technology governance, especially in a landscape increasingly influenced by AI and automation.Additional developments include the launch of the HiPori Partner Program, which aims to enhance secure mobile access for resellers and MSPs, and TD Cinex's AI Game Plan Workshop designed to assist partners in implementing AI solutions for their customers. These initiatives reflect a growing trend among technology providers to standardize outcomes and streamline processes, which may inadvertently reduce the differentiation and authority of MSPs as they adopt these frameworks.For MSPs and IT service leaders, the implications of these developments are significant. As AI-driven execution becomes more prevalent, MSPs must redefine their responsibility and authority to avoid unpriced liabilities. The current landscape suggests that those who can clearly articulate control and accountability in automated environments will have a competitive advantage. Ignoring these shifts could lead to operational risks and customer dissatisfaction, emphasizing the need for MSPs to adapt their strategies in response to the evolving technological landscape. Three things to know today 00:00 Thrive's $1B Ambition, OpenAI Investment, and AI Automation Push Highlight a Shift in Who Controls “Good IT”05:26 Q4 2025 IT Leadership Data Confirms a Five-Year Stall in Diversity Despite Rapid Technology Change10:56 Hypori, TD Synnex, and N-able Moves Show MSPs Trading Local Control for Centralized AI and Endpoint Frameworks This is the Business of Tech.     Supported by:  ingocni.com/tech10   PROMO CODE: tech10https://cometbackup.com/?utm_source=mspradio&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=sponsorship

Are you praying for the conversion of someone you love and feeling discouraged because nothing seems to be changing? In this episode, Fr Columba speaks directly to the frustration, disappointment, and even despair that can creep in when our prayers appear unanswered. He explains why God is never ignoring our conversion prayers, why He will never force belief, and how grace really works in the hearts of those we're praying for. This reflection invites us to let go of control, keep praying with faith and hope, and trust that God is doing far more than we can see.

Contact Welcomed HereResponsibility is the ability to respond - responsibly. Accountablity is the ability to count. Accounting done correctly adds up. Feeling like you don't count is the natural byproduct of thoughts that don't add up since they have no substantive basis. ALL Reality has substance. While substance is largely invisible it is also indivisible - which means it has no parts or pieces to separate or divide so cannot be in conflict. To think we can be separate from It is to think divisively about it and feel disconnected and alone is the natural byproduct of feeling unsubstantive thoughts. Essence is essential and not optional.  Indivisbility cannot be added to, reduced or fractured. IT IS Perfect Peace Silent and Still Presence. We now this or could not notice conflicts or disturbances. Splitting thougths into fractional concepts with a denominator of zero means no numerator can not be big enought to amount to anyting. When enough is never enough the mental impossbility of turning thoughts into reality has been induced. We do not struggle with Reality, Truth or LIfe. Our mentality struggles with how and what we think of them - along with the imagined self we can think we've become. Addiction is not impossible - but to continue the same thinking while wishfully hoping more insanity will resolve the problem only addes fuel to the fire of more obsessive thinking imagining nothing else can ever be done. If we didn't know better there would be nothing we could do.  We Know We Know. We Are Aware We Are Aware. We Are as We Are. Reality is unlimited and never changes. The idea that how and what we think creates reality suggests otherwise. Acting on backward thoughts leads to behaviors that are out of order reflecting a reversal of our natural fortune that are accurately called disorders. Anxious, nervous and systemic disorders reflect this impossible attempt to reverse Nature's Law and Order and our Universe's Essence. Dis-ease is the lack of ease created and maintained by such twisted mental acrobatics. Stress and Anxiety inhibit healing and compound and degrade health. Mentality is a bodily function. Mental disease is a physcial ailment. For as long as it is misdiagnosed - any cure or treatment will perpetuate its contagion. Principles affirm Our Indivisible nature. Sharing Principles confirms our natural indivisibility. Inspiration is natural while desperation, depression, degradation and acting oblivious to what is obvious is an unnatural choice to oppose reality which is impossible to accomplish though we are free to try. Ignoring what is happening, acting as though it shouldn't be or isn't happening, produces the unintelligible gibberish of ignorance - not reality.

A Holiday Haunting: Part 2 Jack and Erin deal with new problems. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Jack's mouth painfully stretched open. He then released a long gasp, and his eyelids pulled back; he was now forcibly awake. Turning to his side, he found himself partially alone. Lucy was still there, deep in sleep, but no Erin. He called her name, but there was nothing. Putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt, Jack searched the house for her. He yelled her name and again there was no reply. It had never worked like that before, but Jack was desperate. He questioned himself, Lucy, the s ance and everything else. Worried that he had caused her banishment, Jack needed to interrogate the medium. But then the doorbell rang, and there was a knock at the door. Opening it, Jack saw a delivery man with a clipboard and a massive box. Annoyed that the new dryer he bought on Black Friday, had finally arrived a week late, he signed the paperwork but felt cold. Jack turned around but saw nothing. Terrified that he was losing it, Jack turned back to the delivery man. The delivery man wheeled the dryer in and took the clipboard off Jack, thanking him. The man then looked past Jack and said, "Morning, Miss." Behind him, Erin stood. Her mouth ajar and stood still, but wasn't her typical ghostly self. She looked like she did last night, her skin a pale pink while her hair was an auburn shade. Erin had the same clothes that Jack had seen for the previous fifteen years. But something was off. Erin had lost the white apron that covered most of the front, and the first two buttons of her collar were undone, possibly scandalous in the 19th century. "He saw me. He saw me." Erin said, walking towards the open door. She ignored Jack and edged closer to the outside, the fresh air, sounds of birds and something new to see calling her. Erin turned back to Jack and said, "Come with me." She then took one step outside and immediately disappeared. "Fuck!" Lucy screamed from upstairs.   A post-S ance exam. They sat around the coffee table, all struggling to think of anything to say. Jack and Lucy had run some basic tests on Erin. She could be seen but not be touched, but cameras could capture her. She couldn't feel anything, but could sit in a chair without phasing through it. Should she take a step outside the house's confines, Erin would instantly vanish and reappear in the attic. But Erin could change her appearance, though only subtly. Like she could roll up her sleeves, undo a button or two and play around her hair. That was a relief to Erin; she had only worn hair in a bob because Mrs. Franklin demanded it. "So, what now," Jack said, taking a sip of coffee. "I; I don't know," Lucy shook her head, "This is way out of my area of expertise. Honestly, I didn't even know that this could happen." "Would it be so wrong if I stayed like this?" Erin said, "I can speak and I can be heard." "But you can't touch anything." Lucy said. "And my parents are going to be back soon. Then it's Christmas and the house is going to be filled with people. I can see my mom and my aunts instantly freak out if they saw you float. And, I have to go back to Boston. I can't leave you like this." "I know." Erin then looked at Lucy and asked, "Can we not do the s ance again?" "Hell no." Lucy shook her head, emphatically underlining her point. "What we did and what happened, it's not the same. Jack was supposed to talk to you and help you move on. Nothing about sex. We did something, maybe something wrong, maybe something right. But it pulled you into this plane. If we do it again, who knows what happens to you?" "Then what next?" Jack asked. Lucy pushed her chair back and stood up. She madly scrolled through the contacts on her phone. "I need to speak to someone. Be back in a sec." Erin followed Lucy out of the room with her stare. She paused for a moment, then leaned in towards Jack. "We should talk." "Yeah." Jack said, trying to hide his nervousness. "I never thought that I would be here. I'd be a banshee, roaming this house until the Last Judgement. I accepted that. Now I can be seen by anyone. I can be spoken to and listened. I am lost and scared. What happens to us?" Jack rested his hand on over hers, sinking through her tangible form and said, "I'll work something out. Don't worry. My dad did say he is thinking about selling the house. Maybe I take it." Erin dropped her head down and said, "I cannot let you do that. Live your life with a spirit. It will be dull. And there is so much I want to see." Leaning back, Jack smiled back at her. This was the first time he could find out who Erin really is, as a person. "Like?" "I want to be in the sky, flying across the ocean. To travel to places that I have only seen briefly in those windows. The Grand Canyon, swim in an ocean and visit Kinsale." "Kinsale?" "It is where I was born. I left when I was twelve. I always wished that I would see the village again." "Anything else?" Erin looked away, like she was thinking; then turned back to Jack and said, "I want to eat food that hadn't been boiled. Wear something luxurious. I want to see a movie. And to kiss you again." She smiled. Lucy walked back into the room. She glanced at Erin, then at Jack, realizing something was up, but began talking. "Okay, I spoke to a friend. She knows a lot of left-hand path rituals, some chaos magic. You know, maybe sigils and secret names?" she said, nodding as if they knew what she meant. "She knows a couple of necromancers." "Necro-mancers?" Erin asked. "They talk to the dead. My friend's going to reach out and get us a name. Hopefully, one who just wants to talk to the dead and nothing more. A necromancer will know what to do." "So, we just wait?" Jack asked. Lucy nodded.    Home Alone. Days later, Erin stared at the TV. She was alone as Jack had to deal with the headache of Christmas preparations. He didn't want to leave her by herself, but Erin insisted that it was okay. This was something that Erin knew she had to get used to. She thought back to how difficult her life was before the s ance. Erin could easily take her current form as a constantly visible ghost, than that hell. One plus was now she could spend time with Jack. Last night, they spent hours talking. Jack told her everything that had happened to him since they last spoke. Erin was confused by his job, working as an engineer but with computers and clouds. Jack also showered her with questions about her own life. Her eyes widened after each question, and she grinned madly back at him. She told him about her life in Ireland, traveling across the Atlantic and working in Boston. Jack showed her current photos of how the city changed. She was amazed and saddened, seeing some of her favorite places of the city disappear. There was one question that Erin wouldn't answer. Jack had asked her where she would go, when she wasn't haunting the house. When he used to see her, it was only for an hour at most, then Erin would just fade away, and Jack would have to wait days or weeks to see her again. Erin couldn't say anything; she just looked away. She finally said it was difficult and Jack quickly changed the subject. The channel that Jack left the TV on was now playing another documentary about the World War. He told her it was a good idea for her to get used to the twenty-first century, but Erin couldn't stomach any more documentaries about the war. She understood Jack's reasoning; the other night, she cried in happiness that Ireland had become independent. A knock on the door turned Erin's head. There was no way it could be Jack. She could hear keys rattling and the door slowly open. Someone then called her name, a female voice. Erin phased through the walls to see who it was. She found Lucy standing outside, darting her head in and out. "Fuck!" Lucy stumbled back as she saw Erin appear, covering her mouth. She took a couple of deep breaths and then said, "Hi; Erin," Lucy nervously smiled, "Where's Jack?" "He has gone to a store called Walm Art. He will return in two hours' time, I hope." "Oh." Lucy paused. "Err, can I come in?" "Sorry," Erin stepped aside and allowed Lucy to enter. "Did Jack give you a key?" "Yeah," Lucy said, removing her jacket. "He swung by and said that I should have it, just in case." Muscle memory dictated her to ask for Lucy's coat and offer her a drink. Erin tried to hide her embarrassment while Lucy just smiled. Erin then followed her into the living room, trying to think about why she was here. She didn't like the idea that Lucy could enter the house whenever she wants. Erin knew the psychic was attracted to Jack; experiencing Lucy's feelings during the second time she possessed her. Erin couldn't help herself but checkout the medium's curvy frame as Lucy walked into the living room, hiding her disappointed face. "I have some news, but I will wait until Jack gets back. It'll be easier to explain. But it's good." Lucy grinned. She sat down on the sofa and asked, "What are you watching?" "A documentary about World War 2?" Erin said, not entirely convinced. "They call it World War 2 but do not say anything about a previous war." "Yeah, I can't remember what World War 1 was about. Might watch Wonder Woman again. Do you mind if I change the channel?" "Please," Erin replied, "It's depressing." She then joined her on the sofa. "So, how are you dealing with the modern world?" Lucy asked while flicking through the channels, stopping on at E. "It's pleasant. Yesterday, Jack showed me around the house and I was amazed. A dishwasher, a washing machine and an automated carpet cleaner. Those were most of my duties and would take half of my day. He showed me um moving photograph on his phone of places he has been to. I want to see them with my own eyes." "I'm guessing back in the 1880s travel was impossible." "Only by train or steam. Now you can fly anywhere," Erin smiled. "But what I'm most astonished by is being a woman. I died before I could vote and now a woman can run for President. I could only be a maid or work in a factory. Now there's so many possibilities." "That's really cool," Lucy said, smiling. Erin felt herself being distracted by the TV. She turned her head and saw a dozen of scantily-clad women grinding against men, who were topless and had bodies like circus strongmen. Her mouth dropped, watching as a woman sing to the camera. Lucy saw Erin's stunned expression and quickly changed the channel. "Sorry." "It's fine," Erin replied, "There is so much that is different. I need to adjust. It's just that if I were to go to a beach, I was expected to wear bloomers that covered my limbs. It is difficult to get used to being in an age were flesh is allowed." "I understand. It's okay to take your time." Lucy said. She then leaned closer and asked, "Sorry if this sounds idiotic. But you okay with me in general? Being a medium, the drinking and the sex before marriage?" Erin smiled and said, "I have lived in this household for over a century. My eyes have been open to many strange things. At first, I prayed for my soul and I thought my impurity was the cause of this life I was to live. As the years passed, I found myself losing that idea of sin. Families lived here, they indulged in vices that I found wicked. But they were still loving and moral people." "Wow," Lucy smirked and said, "One day, you must tell me what you saw over the years." Going back to Lucy's words and all the things she experienced got Erin thinking. In the hundred-odd years she had been trapped in this house, she had caught numerous couples screw late at night. Some were unmarried, others were of different races, which shocked her, but Erin found them loving, which just compounded to her jealousy. Erin had also seen couples have different types of sex, none like the ways she was told or experienced. Her fianc had been drunk during their entire courtships; she doubted he would have been sober enough to cock-stand. Robert just pushed her down on a billiards table and had his way with her. Erin thought she had enjoyed that, but it was nothing compared to what Jack made her feel the other night. It felt unusual, but she loved every moment of him touching her down below. "Um," Erin looked away before opening her mouth, "Lucy, can I ask you something? It is delicate." Lucy shrugged, "Sure." "Jack. He laid me down and used his tongue; on my quim." Erin said blushing. "Is this normal?" "Yeah," Lucy blurted out. "Sorry. Most guys do that now. If you're lucky." She smirked at Erin, who remained nonplussed. "Has sex really changed that much?" "One sec," Lucy stood up and skipped to the kitchen. She returned ten minutes later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. "If we're having girl time, we need wine." Lucy popped open the bottle and poured, then stopped. "Shit, I forgot. I'm sorry. Are you okay if I drink?" "Please," Erin replied, smiling. "My church said it was a sin. They encouraged to be teetotal. The man who I was supposed to marry died due to it. When I tasted wine and became hysteric. I thought that was the reason I was stuck in this house. Now I'm not sure. But I would love another taste." "Hopefully soon." Lucy then took a long sip and said, "Okay ;  sex. Sex is nothing like you have experienced in the 1800s. There are handjobs, blowjobs, anal, bondage, choking and group sex. What Jack did to you ;  I admit I'm jealous. Because most guys won't do that, but still expect you to blow them." "Blow?" "You put a penis in your mouth and suck on it." "Oh Christ," Erin muttered. Lucy then lifted up her phone, and loaded up a website. She then stopped herself, glanced at Erin and typed something else like she had changed her mind. She clicked on a video thumbnail and scooted closer to the spirit. "This is sex now." Erin moaned, watching a young blonde who looked a passing resemblance to Lucy, on a bed. She was nude and smiling at a tattooed man. She quickly stripped the man of his clothes, and then the couple kissed, rolling on the bed. Erin noticed that the woman was completely bare in the between. The man then kissed the woman in the cunt, just like Jack had done to her. "Wow," Erin moaned, "She looks like she is really enjoying herself." Erin felt the need to shift her weight on the sofa while she continued to watch. "Well, she's an actress. I should tell you that this is fake. But you need to know that it's okay to like sex and how you can enjoy it." Lucy then paused as they both watched the blonde actress get on her hands and knees. "That's the doggy-style position, very popular and feels great." Erin pursed her lip like she was trying not to laugh. Everything she had been taught, from her mother, Sunday School and the church, told her that premarital sex was an affront to the Lord. And sex in marriage was only for procreation. Now she could enjoy it. "I have to admit something, Lucy," Erin said, trying to look away from the video, "When me and Jack um fucked. I drew on your thoughts to make it more enjoyable." "I've been meaning to ask you about that." Lucy paused the video and took another sip of the wine. "Jack told me about the first time you possessed me and tried to kiss him." "I'm so sorry." "That's okay. I really just want to know how you were able to possess me? I've talked to spirits before, some probably fake, some hundred-percent real. But I've never been possessed." "I can't explain," Erin said. "It just happened and then I felt pain, you fighting back and mine own struggle. But I can tell you about the other time. It was easy. I just drew on your attraction to Jack." "It's like a tulpa," Lucy said, slowly smiling. "It has to be a tulpa!" "Tulpa?" "A tulpa is a being or an object created through intense thought. You have created something like this, linking you with Jack. When me and Jack were on the sofa, were you just haunting the house or were you drawn to this spot." "I just appeared here and saw you two." "Yeah," Lucy grinned, "This is great. I've got an idea on how we can help you." Erin nodded and looked away. She should apologize. Erin saw the blonde medium less of an adventuress, a strumpet who would seduce Jack, and more of a real person. And someone eager to help her. Erin knew she still had to adjust her 19th century way of thinking to the modern world. "Hey," Lucy said, getting Erin's attention. "Don't worry about me and Jack. I can tell he only wants you, especially now he can actually be with you. You know, have conversations. And I like you and I don't want to mess with a 19th century Irish ghost." Erin chuckled and covered her mouth. She wanted to believe that Lucy was genuine; she disliked being this jealous woman. When she was alive, with a body and everything, she had few friends. It was mainly due to her betrothed and the need to move cities for work. "What happened to you? When I possessed you?" "Hmm," Lucy paused and then said, "The first time I felt nothing, I was like asleep. When you did it again, it was like watching TV. I was standing in a dark room. Watching two screens and I could hear my voice, but it didn't sound like me. You leaned in and kissed Jack and it felt so weird. I'll be interested to try it again. Hell, if you ever want to have some fun with Jack, you can use my body." She grinned. Again, Erin blushed and went red, thinking about floating away from this conversation.   Left Hand Magic. Jack opened the door and made a beeline to the kitchen. He ignored the dulled sounds of music being played and talking in the other room, assuming that it was just the TV. After stocking the fridge, he had to check on Erin. It was a weird relationship. She was like his girlfriend but also his patient. Jack just tried to focus on Lucy coming through for them. Walking into the living room, he found Erin and Lucy both on the sofa. The blonde medium was playing music on her phone while Erin nodded her head over the beat, her eyes closed. This was good. Jack knew that Erin would need someone else to talk to. Like with any other relationship, his neurotic side flared, and Jack was worried that he was suffocating Erin. It helped that Lucy knew what Erin was going through, wouldn't freak out and is around the same age. "Oh, you're back," Erin said, smiling. She stood up and walked through the coffee table to be at his side. "Did you get everything?" "Yep," He nodded, "So, what have you guys been up to?" "I'm just showing her what music is like now, and Instagram. And some other things." Lucy said, smirking at Erin. Jack caught the smile and glanced at Erin, who had gone red. Ignoring their feminine secrets, he sat down and asked, "So, do you have any news?" "Yep," Lucy replied and went for her bag. "You ever heard of a grimoire?" They both shook their heads, which Lucy had suspected they would do. She then gave them a brief explanation of a grimoire. It meant a book of spells, but more accurately, it was a textbook of magic. She had underlined certain pages, focused more on left-hand path magic, which went over both Jack and Erin's heads. The grimoire that Lucy had been given, had instructions on how to resurrect a body. "From what I read, resurrecting the dead is near impossible. Especially when the dead has been dead for over a hundred years. You need to evocate the person's spirit from wherever they are, say Hell or Heaven. That takes a lot of energy, and like it takes forever with like a zero-point-one chance percent of getting it right. But since Erin's spirit is still on Earth, we have a shot." "Fuck." Jack said. He then glanced at Erin and quickly apologized. "No, you are right," Erin nodded, dumbfounded as he was, "So, I can be human?" "Possibly," Lucy said, walking closer to the couple, the dirt-brown book of spells in her hands. "We need some things. Dirt from your grave, for one. Some other stuff, like salt, candles, herbs. Also, there might be sex magic involved." "Sex magic?" Erin said, "How? What?" "This is left-hand path magic!" Lucy yelled, "There's always stuff involving sex." "So, when do we do this?" Jack asked, pouring himself a glass of wine; he needed it. Glancing at Erin, she looked like she wanted one as well. "We need to pick the right date. A date real important." Lucy then got in front of Erin and asked, "What do you remember about the day you died?" "I um; it's hard," Erin said, "I can't. No." "The diary doesn't say much. All I know that she died on December 21st." "December 21st?" Lucy repeated, "The Winter Solstice usually falls on 20th or 21st. If Erin was murdered on the Winter Solstice, it can explain a lot. Tulpas. Midwinter. This is getting weird." Lucy told him that she will explain later. But there was a plan, and all they had to do is get some materials, research more into Erin's life and wait a week. Jack remembered that the ritual would probably happen with his parents around, maybe his sisters. He needed another drink. Nudity Norms. Erin felt comfortable, sitting in the living room with Jack, watching a Christmas movie. It was a pleasant feeling. Jack was supposed to be working, but he told her that he was now in the holiday zone, so he was expected to do the bare minimum until the new year. When she asked what his boss would say, Jack replied that he's probably doing the same right now. If this was what the modern world truly is, then Erin knew she would love it. She glanced at Jack, and he smirked back at her. Last night was still replaying her head. They were in bed, and had finished watching another Christmas movie. Some of the jokes Erin didn't get, also the ending was confusing. Frozen orange juice and future markets. Overall, she enjoyed the movie but was curious about the amount of nudity in some shows, and asked if that was normal. "Depends on the time and what you are watching," Jack said, "When you see actors and actresses naked, sometimes its just as is, like they're waking up or taking a shower. Over times, it's sexual and they might even pretend to have sex." "You mean fucking?" Erin grinned. "What?" Erin explained that she picked up some modern words. Jack immediately guessed it had to be Lucy. There was literally no one else. "I have only had sex twice in my life. Well, once when I was alive," Erin smiled, "What happened with us was unexpected and I had to tell someone. And she taught me some new words." Erin then moved closer and shocked him, "Lucy even showed me videos. Porn." Jack stayed still, not believing what he had heard. He had tried to work out how and why Lucy showed Erin porn. For the last couple of days, he had tried to be protective of her nineteenth-century mind, slowly exposing herself to the modern world. He looked at her, seeing if she was embarrassed. He couldn't tell. No, she looked more curious. He had to ask Erin what she was shown, intrigued at what she thought. Erin then described the scenes in vivid detail, telling the actions of the porn actors, her own emotions and what Lucy said. A man and woman slowly undressed, she was eaten out, then she gave the man a blowjob and then they had sex. Pretty vanilla. "Can I ask you something? Were you watching porn that night?" Erin then asked. That night. It felt so long ago to Jack; his life had changed so much. He told her yes, and wasn't surprised when Erin asked what type of porn. Lucy had really provided her some tutoring as Erin began rattling off porn genres. "Do you want to see what I watched?" Erin blushed but nodded her head. Jack set his laptop on the bed, directly in between them. He told her what he usually liked, amateur, lesbian and Point of view. Looking at Erin, her face was red, but she had this eager look on her, still curious. He played some videos, letting her watch for a while before asking her opinion. "It's. It's something," she said, sounding breathless. Erin watched each video carefully, amazed. One was through a man's eyes, bedding a young woman with many tattoos, which confused her as tattoos only belong to wealthy males during her time. Her eyes would drift to the right side of the page, suggested scenes. The words they used shocked her, anal, stepmom and orgy. Jack then played another movie; this time, it was two women. Erin had this initial disgust, but it slowly disappeared as the women sensually writhed together. It quickly got too much for her. She turned to face Jack, seeing a large bulge in his pants. She didn't know why, but Erin asked if Jack needed to sort himself. She insisted. He nervously pulled out his penis; her eyes flared at the sight of it, hard and veiny. With his dominant hand, Jack then slowly stroked his shaft. Erin quickly became entranced by the action, wishing that she could touch his cock again. But she became distracted, heat from her groin rippled up to her brain; Erin wanted to touch herself. Her eyes glued on him, she hitched up her skirt and slid her hand underneath her bloomers. Both Jack and Erin forgot about the Female-female-male scene that was playing and just stared at each other. Jack's hand became a blur over his cock, while Erin had slid two fingers deep into her pussy. There was little resistance from her Catholic upbringing; all those years she had been told that self-pleasure was a mortal sin were forgotten. Jack then cried out her name as ropes of cum shot out his cockhead. He grabbed a tissue and quickly caught the other spurts. Erin came immediately after him, also crying his name. There was no awkwardness between them as they settled in bed, watching each other as their breathing went back to normal. Jack then said something that made Erin's heart thud, saying that he wished that he could kiss her. She didn't want to think about that as they watched TV. She was still this spirit, telling herself that this could be her life until the Last Judgement. Still, Erin couldn't believe that she would ever try something like that with a man. Glancing at him, he was more handsome than her previous men. It was no contest with Patrick, her forty-something betrothed. With rotten teeth and shaking hands, Erin had hated the thought of touching him. Jack was more like Robert. Not physically, Jack was taller but didn't have Robert's square jaw and his lighter brown hair. Since seeing his naked body during the s ance, Erin noticed that Jack was more athletic than her previous lover. But Jack had Robert's charming and intelligent personality. He was also honest and aware of his limitations, unlike Robert. Whenever they were away from the Franklins, Erin would see him turn into an almighty braggart after a drink. They heard the front door opened then quickly closed. Lucy Prepares for a Resurrection. "Erin? Jack?" Lucy yelled. "In here," Jack said back. She was carrying a big tote bag as she walked into the living room. "Hey guys," Lucy smiled, "You okay?" Both Jack and Erin shrugged and then nodded their heads, saying fine at the same time. "What are you guys watching?" Lucy asked, facing the TV. "I don't know," Erin then turned to Jack and asked, "Which movie is this one?" "It's the Mistletoe Connection." "I've been watching a number of these Hallmark Christmas movies." Erin said, then shrugged her shoulders. "I do enjoy them, but I am finding a pattern. Struggling family business, a woman from the big city, a father with a young child and a lack of minorities?" She glanced at Jack to see if she was correct. He smiled and nodded. "We've been watching Christmas movies non-stop. If this ritual goes like it should, then Erin's going to be out in the world with no pop culture reference point. We watched Gremlins earlier and I figured that she needs a palate cleanser." "I was streaked," Erin said, looking back at Lucy. "She means scared." "For once, I was glad that I am a spirit. Those monsters would have made me cascade if I had a body." "She means puke." Jack then turned to Erin, and they exchanged grins. "You need to switch to Netflix Christmas movies. There's more variety." Lucy said. She took a seat and pulled the grimoire. "I need to ask you some questions, Erin. I want to make sure that we can get everything right for the ritual. Also, I can't find where you were buried." "Of course." "Why don't you guys take the living room. I probably should do some work today." Jack said, standing up. "Do you want some coffee, Lucy?" Lucy said yes, and they quickly settled around the coffee table. She booted up her laptop and asked Erin about her past, trying to squeeze information out of her last days alive. Erin gave vague answers back to her. She had been asked about this before, she hated thinking back. "What's going on?" Lucy asked, lowering her notepad. "What do you mean?" "You keep looking away and you're repeating yourself. What's going on?" "It's just," Erin said, but then stopped. "Lucy, I just need to tell someone about what had happened." Erin then leaned in, wanting to make sure that there was no way Jack could eavesdrop on them. Erin then told her how she and Jack watched porn, first describing the videos she saw. She caught Lucy's eyes widen as she went on. Erin then did a long exhale and told her that the evening ended with her and Jack mutually masturbating. Just like a move from a sitcom, Lucy did a spit take. Wiping her mouth, she turned back to Erin and said, "Sorry. But that's really hot. I didn't know that you can do that." "Nor did I," Erin replied, "I just can't control myself around him. I want to feel him again. To kiss him." "Just kiss?" Erin blushed and dropped her head. "I do have some other carnal thoughts." "Let's see what happens tomorrow. If I'm reading this thing right. You might get to have some fun tomorrow." "If only," Erin said. "So, you going to do it again?" Lucy asked grinning. Erin said nothing, trying not to laugh. "Hey, I'm a pervert," Lucy said, shrugging her shoulders. They went back to their research. Finding Erin's burial was difficult. Her death certificate was nonexistent. Either the hundred years that passed since her death made it impossible to find, or it was another insult by the Franklins. "O, space, then C-E-A-L-L-A-C-H-A-I-N," Erin said, spelling out her last name. "I'm not going to pretend to try to pronounce that." Lucy typed in the search bar and then asked, "I thought your last name is O'Callaghan?" "It is. That's just the Irish spelling. Jack said that if we are successful, I'll need identity papers. I may shorten it to Callaghan." Erin shrugged and looked away. With that done, Erin helped Lucy find her grave. She learnt that the Franklins had her buried in a Potter's field-like cemetery in a town near the border with New Hampshire. She also told Lucy more about her life, traveling across the Atlantic from Ireland, Boston and being forced to move to Portland due to Patrick. They were in deep concentration, but quickly looked up, hearing a car door slam shut. Then some voices that sounded like there were coming from outside.   Parents Pop In. The front door opened, and a deep-sounding voice yelled, "Jack?" Jack jumped out of his chair; he was already prepared. He had been going over this moment since morning. He had to distract his parents while Lucy and, more importantly, Erin had to exit without drawing too much attention. His mom will probably faint if she saw Erin phase through walls, his dad would definitely spend an hour asking Erin to do tricks. He met them by the door and quickly lobbed questions at them. While his dad went upstairs to use the bathroom, Jack marshaled his mom into the kitchen. He showed her what he had bought for Christmas dinner, and asked about other things that they might need. In the living room, Lucy frantically piled her notes, her laptop and the grimoire back in her bag. She bounced from different spots of the room, trying to tidy up without being caught. Erin followed her around the room, not knowing what else to do. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Lucy said out loud but to herself. "Please be calm," Erin said, resting a hand on Lucy's shoulder though both could feel nothing. "We can say that we border together. But that we have to go now." "That's not a bad idea." Lucy replied. She paused and stared at Erin's clothes. "Can you do yourself up. Like how you used to look." Erin had her sleeves pulled up to her elbows, her hair down and her shoes were under Jack's bed. It was this weird quirk that she could change her appearance briefly, but it would just reset itself to how she always looked. Sometimes it was random, or if she just thought strongly enough. She nodded her head, and then Erin pressed her chest like she was doing the pledge of allegiance. With a quick flash, every bit of her clothing and her hair was back in its place. "Let's go," she said. While Jack was distracting his mother, they walked to the door, both looking at the kitchen. As Lucy opened the door, she waved at Erin and pointed to her mouth. Erin got the hint and said, "Bye Jack. We have to go." "Thanks for your help," Lucy added. They watched as a woman in her late fifties walked out of the kitchen. She was then joined by Jack. He looked like he was biting his lower lip. "Well, hello," she said. Her face had this inquisitive look like she was quickly judging them. "Hello, I am Erin," she said, "This is Miss; umm Lucy." "Hi, I'm Mary. Jack's mom," she replied, "That's umm interesting dress that you are wearing." Erin stayed quiet, her face frozen and her eyes stretched wide. "Oh, Erin's just shy," Lucy said, "She came from a rehearsal." She then turned to Erin and asked, "You're playing Scrooge's maid, right?" "Yes," Erin replied, not sounding anywhere convincing. "I'm sorry, but we need to be leaving." Jack left his mom's side and walked to the door, blocking her view of Erin just in case. "See you guys later," he said loud enough for his mom to hear him. He then leaned in and whispered, "Hide in my room, I'll be up soon." Both Lucy and Erin nodded. Jack slowly closed the door, watching Erin fade away as soon as she stepped outside. Lucy twisted her head left to right; he guessed that she was checking if anyone noticed a nineteenth-century maid disappear. Jack then locked the door and turned around, seeing his mother giving him a sly look. She suspected something. She was going to ask him so many questions, he knew it.   Inconvenient Parents. Erin stared out of the window, bored. She realized that she had never really checked out the change in her surroundings. That was interesting for a while, but after two hours, she needed something else to do. Erin had tried to see if she could focus all her energy and press the TV remote power button but got nowhere. She attempted not to think about the ceremony tomorrow. Thoughts of her future, of Jack and life would occasionally creep in her head, and Erin had to ignore them. She trusted herself, knowing that if it went wrong and she would stay like this, that she could survive. But what about Jack? There was a knock and Erin turned her head. "Erin?" Jack said before opening the door and poking his head in. "Jack?" "Sorry, I had to leave you alone for so long. Mom and Dad really wanted to know what I've been up to." Jack then climbed onto his bed and switched the TV on. He flipped through the channels before settling on ESPN. He looked at the door as he played around with the volume. "I understand." Erin then joined him on the bed. "Oh yeah. Mom really likes the tree. I told her that you helped me decorate it." "Were they upset that I didn't fully introduce myself to them?" "No. Not really. But over dinner, Mom wanted to know about you. I had to think of something to say. I told them that I met you recently and we've been seeing each other. Also, you're crashing at Lucy's." "Seeing each other?" Erin replied, "Is that what modern courtship is?" "Something like that," Jack said, smiling, "What was courtship like in 1800s?" "Courtship was not for people like me. Especially for someone from Ireland. My Dad worked with a man and the fellow said he was looking for a wife. My Dad then brought him home one night, I may have said five words to Patrick during dinner. Two weeks later, we were engaged." "Whoa. Is that what you wanted?" "I never had a say. My parents said I was to be married and that was it." "What did you think about Patrick?" "A drunk," Erin said, rolling her eyes. "I could tell the type of husband he was going to be during that dinner. I was to be a nurse for him, bring him whiskey, wash him and clean off umm vomit from his mouth." She blushed again, still not comfortable with some modern words. "But when he died. How old were you? Couldn't you marry someone else?" "I was 25. A different time. One that I am so happy to be out of." Erin smiled. "There is something I want to ask. Is courtship similar to dating?" "Dating?" "I've heard that word spoken so many times in this house. Back when I was alive, dating meant buying a night with a whore." Jack tried to explain what dating meant now. The use of apps, having coffee dates or low-key ones like going shopping. Also, casual sex and friends-with-benefits. The dating stages, how couples usually go from casual acquaintances to dating, boyfriend and girlfriend, moving into together and finally getting married if they like. He saw Erin's shocked look when he explained that divorce was so common and accepted. Jack carried on, saying how some couples don't use labels to describe themselves; some do while others have their own thing. Embarrassed, but Jack had no choice to use experience from his own life. "We have had sex." Erin said, slowly smiling, "I guess we're more boyfriend and girlfriend." "Probably." Jack replied, smirking at her. Jack's phone then started buzzing and interrupted them. Reaching to the nightstand, Lucy was calling him on Facetime. He turned to Erin and said, "Lucy's video-calling me." "Video-calling? So, she can see us? Wow." Jack answered and said, "Hey Lucy, what's up? Where are you?" They could see Lucy in a dimly lit storeroom. There were boxes of Budweiser beer and whiskey stacked behind her. Her clothes also looked weird for her, wearing a white shirt and a black leather apron. There was no make-up on her face, and her hair was tied back. "I got a shift at the Cord & Rifle. Anyway, how you guys doing?" Erin looked at Jack, he shrugged, and she turned back to Lucy saying, "We're good." "What happened to your mom & dad?" "They had some questions. I told them that I've been seeing Erin for a while and you guys came over, so I can help you with your laptop." "And. I am uh, crashing; at your home," Erin said, emphasizing any modern words. "Cool, cool." Lucy looked passed her phone, then there was a knock and a muffled voice. She nodded and said, "They need me back behind the bar. There was also one thing. Tomorrow, it's just us and your parents, right? Like your sisters aren't going to burst in while we're burning sage or nude?" "Nude?" Erin looked at Jack, squinting her eyes. He shook his head and turned back to Lucy, "No. You don't have to worry about them. Katie and Beth will be flying out on 23rd. They got tickets to Taylor Swift tomorrow. Unless LA gets a plague of spiders, they are going to be there." "Okay then," Lucy nodded, "So, we need to drug your parents," she said, so casual. She then looked away, mouthing 'what' at someone. "Shit, I need to go." "What do you mean, drug my parents?" "Yeah, we need to drug them." Lucy stood up and looked like she was moving. "Why?" "They have to be drugged," Lucy replied, "Bye guys!" Jack glanced at Erin, then back to his blank phone screen. Tomorrow is going to be a long, stressful day. *** In a couple of hours, the Winter Solstice would happen, and Erin sat on Jack's bed. She watched him paced in the room, on the phone with one of his sisters. He said that he was helping her out with a computer problem, but as he talked to his sister, Erin only heard half of the conversation and it made no sense to her. She never really interacted with anyone else in the house. Before Jack and his family moved in, Erin tried to keep to herself, always in the corner of the eye of the house's occupants for a quick second, then disappearing. She didn't even want to be seen by Jack initially but had no choice as her attic became his bedroom. Few times, she would find herself in his sisters' rooms and would see them. Erin struggled to remember their names. What was she supposed to say whenever she meets them? Erin clenched her eye shut, hating herself. It was wrong to think about the future. There were so many things that could go wrong. Jack ended the called and turned to Erin, "I hate being the family's I T support," he said, rolling his eyes. "I T?" "Never mind." He settled on the bed next to her and slipped on his boots. "It'll be weird when I introduce you to them. Katie will be anywhere from cool to disinterested. I know for a fact that Beth will be asking you non-stop questions. She's a pain like that." Erin smiled and said, "You're being too confident. It might not happen. And if this ritual fails, I will accept it with grace." "Really?" "I need to. Just so I can stay sane." "I've got a text from Lucy. She's outside." Jack stood up and grabbed his jacket. "I have faith something will happen. Something good," he said, smiling back at her. "It's like a 40-minute drive to the cemetery. We will be a while. Try to stay here until me or Lucy come up." "Good luck," Erin replied. It was getting too much for her. Erin knew how she was feeling over him. She loved Jack. It terrified her. If the ritual fails, what would happen to Jack, Erin asked herself. He had this single-minded focus on helping her. She was worried that if it doesn't work, he won't be able to move on.   Lucy pulled her Ford over and cut the engine. Jack wasn't going to say anything to her, but her car should not be making those types of sounds. It was like a Transformer was having a heart attack. Looking out of the window, he didn't see anyone. They left the car and slowly walk to the wall; it looked low enough for them to climb. Jack didn't know if there was some kind of night guard but said to Lucy that they should sneak in, just in case. She agreed, and soon he was boosting her over the wall. Climbing over, Jack landed on frozen grass that crunch with every step. They were lucky with the wind howling, making enough noise to cover their movements. "You ever been in a cemetery before?" Lucy asked, flashing the torch at a gravestone. "No. Have you?" "Yeah," she replied, "Loads of times; its part of the job. When I started hearing voices of the dead, I was like a goth goddess. Every Friday, someone was dragging me to a cemetery or a graveyard. Guys would hit on me all the time. I gave my first handy at a grave." "I got my first one during a school trip to Bangor," he said, looking at a gravestone, "I'm pretty sure that I told Erin about it." "How's Erin handling it?" Lucy asked, "Is she freaking out being a real woman again?" "Not really." Lucy stopped and Jack did the same. "Have you guys said anything about the future?" Jack sighed and shook his head. "Where's she going to stay? You're going back to Boston; is she going to follow you or stay here? She will need help with ID and social security." "I know. But Erin just doesn't want to think about the future. Talking about Boston, what she wants to do with her life and everything else, it will fucking hurt if tomorrow she's still a ghost. She's protecting herself." Lucy nodded and said, "I understand." Jack looked around, feeling that they were lost. Realizing that there was no guard and they were definitely alone, Jack and Lucy walked to the entrance. From there, they methodically worked their way up, finding Erin's grave after thirty minutes of searching. Lucy bent down and jammed a trowel into the ground. The frozen soil being too hard for her and Jack quickly took over. It took a couple of jabs to loosen the dirt. He scooped it up and funneled it into a sterilized container. Jack did ask why the box had to be sterilized. "You ever seen the Fly?" Lucy replied, tightening the lid around the plastic box, "You don't want her DNA mixing with something else. Turning her into a hybrid." "Really?" "Nah. It's just what it says to do in the grimoire," Lucy grinned, "Okay's let's get the hell out of here and roofie your parents." The Resurrection at Solstice. Jack searched the pantry for marshmallows, knowing that they were there somewhere. Lucy was upstairs with Erin. She was surprisingly easy to sneak into the house without his mom and dad noticing. While she was keeping Erin company, Jack was making his parents cocoa. Lucy had given him some weird smelling liquid to mix into the cocoa. It should make them fall asleep. He had to hide his look of glee when his dad said yes when he asked. If he didn't, they would be in trouble. He handed them the cocoa and settled down on the sofa, away from his parents. They were watching some Holiday cake show, and Jack would occasionally look up from his phone; they were still awake but getting quiet. Five minutes, he caught his mom closing her eyes and his dad doing that move of falling asleep, then jolting back awake. Ten minutes later, they were both deep asleep. He knew that they would be pissed at him in the morning, letting them sleep all night on the sofa. Waiting another ten minutes, Jack checked that they were still asleep and texted Lucy. It took just seconds for Erin to suddenly appear in his living room and the sound of Lucy running down the stairs. Both also checked if his parents were out cold; he guessed that they were also scared of being interrupted. "What did you give them?" Jack asked, staring at his snoring parents. "Oh, Valerian root and CBD oil," Lucy said, "We should get ready." "How long do we have?" Erin asked. "We got time," Lucy replied, looking at her phone. "The solstice is at 12:34am. This ritual has to happen during that time." "So, what do we have to do?" Jack said. They went back into Jack's room. Just like the s ance, they had to use the bedroom to host the ritual. Jack pushed everything to one side again, leaving a large empty space. Lucy made another circle, this time out of salt. There was something wrong with this; Jack had seen horror movies that use rings of salt as protection from the Devil. He wanted to ask if they're technically practicing Satanism. "This is just to make sure that we contain any kind of magic that we've created," Lucy said. After the circle was done, Jack placed seven black candles around the ring. They smelt funny, like someone could get high from the fumes. Lucy then put the grave dirt in the circle, making a pile with her hands. Directly opposite the soil, she positioned the silver bucket they had used before. While they worked on the preparations, Erin stood next to the door, silently watching them. Once Lucy said they were ready, they headed downstairs and to the kitchen. There was still some time to go, at least forty minutes. They could have waited in Jack's room, but both he and Lucy were too scared to touch anything and ruin the ritual. With Jack's parents snoring in the living room, they settled around the kitchen table. "Do you want something to drink?" Jack asked, breaking the silence between them. "Oh, god yes." Jack reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "Dad got a bottle of Maker's Mark from my uncle," he said, pouring glasses for him and Lucy. They both quickly finished the bourbon and refilled their glasses. But Jack paused before taking another sip. He looked up from his drink to Erin and said, "Sorry about this." "Me too," Lucy said, hesitating as well. "But, if this works. I'm going to take you to a bar and we'll get hammered." Erin looked away and chuckled to herself. "Today, is it really that special? The Winter Solstice." "Yeah," Lucy said, "There's so many things that happen today. Yule is celebrated today by pagans and Satanists. Then there's the whole life-death-reborn symbolism of it, being the shortest day." She took another sip of bourbon and asked, "If this ritual works or doesn't, you're still going to experience a modern Christmas. How was that like back in 1890s?" Erin let out a quick smile and shrugged her shoulders. She said, "It was the same. There was Father Christmas ;  Santa, Christmas trees and presents. When I was alive, I'd go to church number of times before Christmas. My mam and my nana would give me presents on 6th December. How about you two? What are your traditions?" "Mine are really boring," Jack said, "Typical Christmas. Exchange gifts, eat too much, drink too much. But it's the only time my sisters do all of the cooking. Like Christmas dinner is their time to shine. Later in the evening, we go to the movies. Lucy?" "Pass," she said, "With this talking to dead people, I never really celebrated Christmas. Normally out getting drunk with friends or strangers." Lucy then checked her phone and then said, "We should probably stop drinking. It's getting near midnight and I probably shouldn't be swaying when I start reading the grimoire. And if you drink too much, it might affect your plumbing. And we need a good, sexy, show." Jack rolled his eyes and stood up. He said, "I don't know anything about sex magic and what it does. But I really think you just want to watch us fuck." Erin stood next to him, blushing uncontrollably. She covered her face and looked away. "Maybe," Lucy grinned, "You guys go to your room and I'm gonna get changed and we'll start." Jack and Erin were in his bedroom, standing inside the circle. They stayed quiet, not even keeping eye contact with each other. Jack would open his mouth from time to time and try to say something, probably some reassuring words to Erin. He had none, though; so he kept his mouth shut and waited. His bedroom door swung open, and in walked Lucy. She had changed, replacing her jeans and sweatshirt with an ankle-length black dress. It had long sleeves and fit snugly around her curves. She also pulled her long blonde hair in a ponytail, wearing black lipstick and eye shadow. She could see them staring at her and said, "I'm trying to match what they were usually wear for this kind of thing." "So, should we get started?" Jack asked. "Yeah. You start lighting the candles. I'm going to start the fire and burn the sage." It was just like as Jack thought, the weird-smelling candles that he placed around the circle started exhaling a strange odor. It smelt like weed, but some cheap, disgusting weed. After that was done, he joined Erin back in the circle. Smoke from the sage filled the room, but it wasn't overpowering like the night of the s ance. Lucy held the grimoire tightly and rounded the circle, standing in front of the dirt. "I'm going to start reading the grimoire. When you can, start kissing and do you-know-what." "Are you okay?" Jack asked as he stood in front of Erin. "Yeah. I'm calm." Jack dropped his eyes to her hands. She was trembling. "Okay guys, let's get weird," Lucy said before she began reading. "Our good being. Bear this night lights open this fruit female. Set the Cork grass light. Her fruit diminished. Days gathering seasons said air together for every day lost. Given her wherein dry replenish. Light her subdued wings." Lucy lowered her head, facing Jack and Erin. They both looked puzzled. Lucy rolled her eyes and said, "Just, kiss now!" Jack tried to take Erin's hand, but his fingers went through hers. She widened her eyes, scared at what was not happening. She was still non-corporeal. Something had gone wrong, and they could be out of time. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Lucy said to herself, frantically flipping through the grimoire. Jack kept eye contact with Erin and asked, "Lucy, can't we do this another day?" "No. Today is the day Erin died and it falls on the Winter Solstice. We might have to wait another year or two for the right time to occur, again." "If we wait," he said, still looking at a scared Erin, "There is no way Erin could go unnoticed by my parents. Even if I stay here." Lucy jumped into the circle and stood in front of Erin. "You have to possess me." "What?" Erin said, nearly yelling, "Why

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

Edmund Fitton-Brown warns that the West's premature "retirement" of counterterrorism efforts has allowed threats to incubate in conflict zones like Afghanistan. He argues that ignoring these regions inevitably leads to attacks in the West, as terrorists seek attention by striking "peaceful" environments, necessitating renewed forward engagement. 1910

Ambassador Hussein Haqqani and Bill Roggio discuss global terror outbreaks, including ISIS-linked attacks in Australia and Afghanistan. Haqqani argues the West prematurely declared victory, ignoring radical ideologies. He notes Pakistan's internal power struggles and failure to track jihadists, warning the region remains a launchpad for international terrorism. 1867

Precision spindles featuring machine-like lathe markings, 3D intricate carvings, depictions of ice age mammals, the largest cut barays on earth, inverted clamp crevices, giant precision lingas, and huge megalithic blocks featuring 90 degree angles, interlocking nubs and drill holes - why does mainstream archaeology ignore the evidence that lost ancient technology was used to engineer Angkor Wat and the many other incredible temples and structures in and around Cambodia's Siem Reap area? Back from our recent Cambodia expedition, I sit down with Cassie Coppersmith (explorer, researcher and host of the 'Secrets in Stone' podcast) to discuss the many mind-blowing anomalies that we witnessed. We provide the receipts in 4k videoFOLLOW CASSIE HERE JOIN ME ON A TOUR

In this episode, Coach Doralee sits down with Dallisa Hocking to talk about trusting yourself again and reconnecting to your inner knowing. She is a 5th generation psychic, who's expertise spans psychic development, mediumship, astrology, and tarot, blending spiritual insight with real-world coaching to help people navigate life's most pivotal moments.She breaks down why every woman is intuitive, how we dim our light to stay accepted, and how self-doubt becomes a learned survival pattern. This conversation blends emotional healing, nervous system awareness, and spiritual intuition in a grounded, real-life way. If you're ready to stop performing, stop second-guessing, and start listening to yourself, this episode is for you.

In this episode, Coach Doralee sits down with Dallisa Hocking to talk about trusting yourself again and reconnecting to your inner knowing. She is a 5th generation psychic, who's expertise spans psychic development, mediumship, astrology, and tarot, blending spiritual insight with real-world coaching to help people navigate life's most pivotal moments.She breaks down why every woman is intuitive, how we dim our light to stay accepted, and how self-doubt becomes a learned survival pattern. This conversation blends emotional healing, nervous system awareness, and spiritual intuition in a grounded, real-life way. If you're ready to stop performing, stop second-guessing, and start listening to yourself, this episode is for you.

In this solo episode, Nole dives deep into the tension between the cultural push for men to be extraordinary and the profound value of simply embracing the ordinary—or the mundane—in daily life.Inspired by a simple observation about a frantic lemur at an animal park ("He leads a simple life"), Nole explores the idea that while high-achieving goals (like a podcast, an adventure race, or a career milestone) are important, they occupy only a tiny fraction of our time. The bulk of our lives is spent on the ordinary, often overlooked tasks.Using the concept of the Time Wheel (a pie chart of your daily hours), Nole argues that if your stated priorities don't align with where you actually spend your time, you may be missing the most important opportunities for growth and fulfillment. He challenges men to approach the mundane—from laundry and cooking to exercise and even brushing teeth—with excellence and gratitude.This focus on doing the small things well is presented as a form of discipline that "bleeds" into the rest of life, strengthening relationships and fueling the pursuit of bigger goals. Ultimately, it's about finding the balance to ensure that the pursuit of excellence doesn't turn us into slaves of busyness, robbing us of time for peace, reflection, and truly appreciating life.Big thank you to My Epic and Facedown Records for the use of their song "Hail" in our podcast!https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dz2RZThURTU&ab_channel=FacedownRecordsVideo referenced in this episode: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mY3UJLmXAUQSign up for a class at The Fire Up Program!https://www.fireupprogram.com/programsThe Fire Up Progam video.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I__ErPW46Ec&t=12s&ab_channel=FireUpProgramThe Fire You Carry Instagram.https://www.instagram.com/thefireyoucarry/Donate to The Fire Up Program.https://www.fireupprogram.com/donateThe Fire Up Program Instagram.https://www.instagram.com/fireup_program/Kevin's Instagram.https://www.instagram.com/kevinpwelsh/?hl=enMyZone facility code for The Fire You Carry: CALIFUS001Get $60 off a MZ-Switch Heart Rate Monitor!https://buy.myzone.org/?lang=enUS&voucher=CALIFUS001-60

In this episode of the Smart Wealth & Retirement Podcast, financial advisors and retirement planners Jim Martin & Casey Bibb of Martin Wealth Solutions break down some of the most common — and costly — mistakes people make leading up to and during retirement. From emotional investing and improper risk management to underestimating taxes, Social Security timing, and overspending early in retirement, Jim and Casey explain why these issues show up so often… and what you can do to stay clear of them. They share real-world client experiences, discuss the habits that lead to long-term success, and offer practical steps to help retirees and pre-retirees avoid unnecessary stress, poor decisions, and financial regret. http://retirewithmartin.com/ ← Learn about working with us www.planwellretirehappy.com Episode Breakdown 00:00 – Introduction: Why retirement mistakes happen 03:05 – Mistake #1: Overspending early in retirement 06:14 – Mistake #2: Not having a written plan 08:10 – Mistake #3: Not investing your age 10:34 – Mistake #4: Working longer than you really needed to 13:29 – Mistake #5: Ignoring taxes until it's too late 14:23 – Mistake #6: Delaying big decisions 16:50 – Mistake #7: Not reaching out to our team  17:40 – Q&A with Casey 20:45 – Key takeaways & closing thoughts Disclaimer Opinions expressed herein are solely those of Martin Wealth Solutions, unless otherwise specifically cited. Material presented is believed to be from reliable sources, but no representations are made by our firm as to another parties' informational accuracy or completeness. Content provided herein is for informational purposes only and should not be used or construed as investment advice or a recommendation regarding the purchase or sale of any security. There is no guarantee that any statements, opinions or forecasts provided herein will prove to be correct. All information or ideas provided should be discussed in detail with an advisor, accountant or legal counsel prior to implementation. Past performance may not be indicative of future results. Indices are not available for direct investment. Any investor who attempts to mimic the performance of an index would incur fees and expenses which would reduce returns. Securities investing involves risk, including the potential for loss of principal. There is no assurance that any investment plan or strategy will be successful.

Missing from official comments and press reporting about the murder this weekend of three Americans in Syria and sixteen Jewish Australians on a Sydney beach is the word “jihad.” That failure is deliberate – a symptom of, and a contributor to, a metastasizing danger. Fifteen years ago, our group called “Team B II” published a book entitled, Sharia: The Threat to America. It challenged the policy that prevailed then – and continues to operate today, namely, ignoring acts of violence clearly animated by that totalitarian Islamic doctrine, depicting them instead as random incidents of “terrorism” or “extremism.” Today, sharia-supremacists tied to or inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood are poised to engage in much more jihadist violence, both elsewhere and here, and on a far greater scale.  Warnings like Team B's must no longer be ignored. Join us in saying so at BantheBrotherhood.org. This is Frank Gaffney.

Lords: * Linker * Alexa Topics: * Variations in vampire stories: types of powers, origins of vampires, lack of consent lol * Anthropomorphism/Connection in media * Get a free burger when you join my rewards * Meditation at Lagunitas by Robert Hass * https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47553/meditation-at-lagunitas * What letter of the alphabet would win in a Royal Rumble * Anti-Lesbian Vampire Propaganda of the 1970s as shown in The Vampire Lovers (1970) * https://crossingsjournal.ca/index.php/crossings/article/view/283 Microtopics: * Being American and then being Canadian-American. * Elephantasy and Elephantasy Flipside. * Crazy Aaron's Thinking Putty. * 3D-printed worms. * A plastic casing attached to your keychain that used to have a clicky button on it. * What we did to fidget after the industrialization of textiles. * How office workers goofed off before the Internet. * Bella's lead skull that prevents Edward from mind-controlling her. * Making up a power to be your favorite vampire power. * What happens when you inhale a vampire in mist form. * Using a picture of Cat's Cradle to illustrate the concept of telekinesis. * Putting the vampire coffin in steerage and the familiar has to sit in coach and then pull the coffin off of the luggage conveyor belt. * Would it be fun to turn into mist and be collected in a cup and then drunk? * Miss Frizzle, vampire expert. * Getting frustrated at a stealth video game and giving up being a pacifist as a metaphor for being an old vampire. * New Money vs. Old Money vampires. * Vampires going on Fetlife to find ethically sourced food. * One mysterious vampire at Goth night at the nightclub quietly asking to drink your blood, vs. twenty vampires going around begging and everyone's like jeez, this again? * Nobody expecting you to embezzle the blood. * Talking to a computer like it's a person you have absolutely no respect for, in a way you'd never talk to a real person because you assign a baseline respect for just being a real person, and people overhearing you are like "holy shit they're really mad" but you're not mad, you're just talking to a computer. * Apologizing to the table you just ran into. * It Takes Two. * Following the instructions of the book of love. * Creation of personality in moments of friction. * Interacting with video games in similar ways as you would a person, expect without the social anxiety. * Why would you ruin this perfectly good complex system with social anxiety? * We've got teamwork at home. * Sentient burgers enslaving other sentient burgers. * Being rewarded with a free burger but then turning into a burger and being given away as a reward. * Chicken stars! They're like chicken nuggets but they're shaped like stars! * Where were you when you were drafted into the Rewards Wars? * Naming your rewards program "My Rewards" so when the mascot refers to it it sounds like the rewards belong to the mascot. * Demanding to see the terms and conditions before you eat this hamburger. * A word that is elegy to what it signifies. * Moments when the body is as numinous as words. * Taking some LSD and learning about non-symbolic states. * Ignoring poetry in the same way that you ignore ads. * Vampire jokes! * Transylvanian Hounds. * Serif H being much more combat-ready than sans serif H. * The most bouba letters. * Capital O rolling around crushing the other letters of the alphabet like in Raiders of the Lost Ark. * Distraction the ref so you can stab. * Which letter of the alphabet could do the best backflip. * Whether the ampersand counts as a letter. * Letters that are good at stabbing vs. letters with broad sturdy bases. * The nuclear family emerging in response to the financial boom following World War II. * Anti-lesbian propaganda films that are far too sexy to be effective. * Heteronormative fiances. * Carmella the lesbian vampire stealing your wife. * The vampire lesbians receiving their comeuppance and the heteronormative couple living happily every after. * Be gay do crimes. (Murder.) * Buying Linker's games so he doesn't die.

Send us a textEpisode 74 of the "Everything Except The Law" podcast has arrived! This time we're speaking with Delisi Friday, Founder and Owner of First Call Friday.In this episode, Delisi and host Nick Werker discuss the value of integrating referral strategies into everyday practice, uncover hidden referral sources lawyers often overlook and explain how to train staff to recognize and act on referral opportunities. Delisi also shares a memorable encounter with Kim Kardashian and the lesson she took away from the experience.About our guest:Delisi Friday has worked 20 years in the legal industry, and is in the top 1% of LinkedIn users in the legal industry, and ranked top 50 in legal in the United States. She has worked in four 8-figure businesses, and spent 7 years as a marketing director of an 8-figure boutique PI firm.First Call Friday was founded by Delisi in 2025 to help attorneys and law firms grow their book of business through strategic, referral-based marketing. The company is about real relationship building among lawyers, referral partners, current clients, and former clients.Learn more about First Call Friday here: https://www.firstcallfriday.com/Connect with Delisi on LinkedIn here: https://www.linkedin.com/in/delisifriday/Everything Except The Law is a part of the Answering Legal Podcast Network. Learn more about the show here: https://tinyurl.com/5amdynrp Interested in learning more about Answering Legal? Book an appointment to speak with us here: https://tinyurl.com/5n758x24 You can also give us a call at 631-212-1899.This podcast is produced and edited by Joe Galotti. You can reach Joe via email at joe@answeringlegal.com.

TLDR: It was Claude :-)When I set out to compare ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, Grok, and ChatPRD for writing Product Requirement Documents, I figured they'd all be roughly equivalent. Maybe some subtle variations in tone or structure, but nothing earth-shattering. They're all built on similar transformer architectures, trained on massive datasets, and marketed as capable of handling complex business writing.What I discovered over 45 minutes of hands-on testing revealed not just which tools are better for PRD creation, but why they're better, and more importantly, how you should actually be using AI to accelerate your product work without sacrificing quality or strategic thinking.If you're an early or mid-career PM in Silicon Valley, this matters to you. Because here's the uncomfortable truth: your peers are already using AI to write PRDs, analyze features, and generate documentation. The question isn't whether to use these tools. The question is whether you're using the right ones most effectively.So let me walk you through exactly what I did, what I learned, and what you should do differently.The Setup: A Real-World Test CaseHere's how I structured the experiment. As I said at the beginning of my recording, “We are back in the Fireside PM podcast and I did that review of the ChatGPT browser and people seemed to like it and then I asked, uh, in a poll, I think it was a LinkedIn poll maybe, what should my next PM product review be? And, people asked for ChatPRD.”So I had my marching orders from the audience. But I wanted to make this more comprehensive than just testing ChatPRD in isolation. I opened up five tabs: ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, Grok, and ChatPRD.For the test case, I chose something realistic and relevant: an AI-powered tutor for high school students. Think KhanAmigo or similar edtech platforms. This gave me a concrete product scenario that's complex enough to stress-test these tools but straightforward enough that I could iterate quickly.But here's the critical part that too many PMs get wrong when they start using AI for product work: I didn't just throw a single sentence at these tools and expect magic.The “Back of the Napkin” Approach: Why You Still Need to Think“I presume everybody agrees that you should have some formulated thinking before you dump it into the chatbot for your PRD,” I noted early in my experiment. “I suppose in the future maybe you could just do, like, a one-sentence prompt and come out with the perfect PRD because it would just know everything about you and your company in the context, but for now we're gonna do this more, a little old-school AI approach where we're gonna do some original human thinking.”This is crucial. I see so many PMs, especially those newer to the field, treat AI like a magic oracle. They type in “Write me a PRD for a social feature” and then wonder why the output is generic, unfocused, and useless.Your job as a PM isn't to become obsolete. It's to become more effective. And that means doing the strategic thinking work that AI cannot do for you.So I started in Google Docs with what I call a “back of the napkin” PRD structure. Here's what I included:Why: The strategic rationale. In this case: “Want to complement our existing edtech business with a personalized AI tutor, uh, want to maintain position industry, and grow through innovation. on mission for learners.”Target User: Who are we building for? “High school students interested in improving their grades and fundamentals. Fundamental knowledge topics. Specifically science and math. Students who are not in the top ten percent, nor in the bottom ten percent.”This is key—I got specific. Not just “students,” but students in the middle 80%. Not just “any subject,” but science and math. This specificity is what separates useful AI output from garbage.Problem to Solve: What's broken? “Students want better grades. Students are impatient. Students currently use AI just for finding the answers and less to, uh, understand concepts and practice using them.”Key Elements: The feature set and approach.Success Metrics: How we'd measure success.Now, was this a perfectly polished PRD outline? Hell no. As you can see from my transcript, I was literally thinking out loud, making typos, restructuring on the fly. But that's exactly the point. I put in maybe 10-15 minutes of human strategic thinking. That's all it took to create a foundation that would dramatically improve what came out of the AI tools.Round One: Generating the Full PRDWith my back-of-the-napkin outline ready, I copied it into each tool with a simple prompt asking them to expand it into a more complete PRD.ChatGPT: The Reliable GeneralistChatGPT gave me something that was... fine. Competent. Professional. But also deeply uninspiring.The document it produced checked all the boxes. It had the sections you'd expect. The writing was clear. But when I read it, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was reading something that could have been written for literally any product in any company. It felt like “an average of everything out there,” as I noted in my evaluation.Here's what ChatGPT did well: It understood the basic structure of a PRD. It generated appropriate sections. The grammar and formatting were clean. If you needed to hand something in by EOD and had literally no time for refinement, ChatGPT would save you from complete embarrassment.But here's what it lacked: Depth. Nuance. Strategic thinking that felt connected to real product decisions. When it described the target user, it used phrases that could apply to any edtech product. When it outlined success metrics, they were the obvious ones (engagement, retention, test scores) without any interesting thinking about leading indicators or proxy metrics.The problem with generic output isn't that it's wrong, it's that it's invisible. When you're trying to get buy-in from leadership or alignment from engineering, you need your PRD to feel specific, considered, and connected to your company's actual strategy. ChatGPT's output felt like it was written by someone who'd read a lot of PRDs but never actually shipped a product.One specific example: When I asked for success metrics, ChatGPT gave me “Student engagement rate, Time spent on platform, Test score improvement.” These aren't wrong, but they're lazy. They don't show any thinking about what specifically matters for an AI tutor versus any other educational product. Compare that to Claude's output, which got more specific about things like “concept mastery rate” and “question-to-understanding ratio.”Actionable Insight: Use ChatGPT when you need fast, serviceable documentation that doesn't need to be exceptional. Think: internal updates, status reports, routine communications. Don't rely on it for strategic documents where differentiation matters. If you do use ChatGPT for important documents, treat its output as a starting point that needs significant human refinement to add strategic depth and company-specific context.Gemini: Better Than ExpectedGoogle's Gemini actually impressed me more than I anticipated. The structure was solid, and it had a nice balance of detail without being overwhelming.What Gemini got right: The writing had a nice flow to it. The document felt organized and logical. It did a better job than ChatGPT at providing specific examples and thinking through edge cases. For instance, when describing the target user, it went beyond demographics to consider behavioral characteristics and motivations.Gemini also showed some interesting strategic thinking. It considered competitive positioning more thoughtfully than ChatGPT and proposed some differentiation angles that weren't in my original outline. Good AI tools should add insight, not just regurgitate your input with better formatting.But here's where it fell short: the visual elements. When I asked for mockups, Gemini produced images that looked more like stock photos than actual product designs. They weren't terrible, but they weren't compelling either. They had that AI-generated sheen that makes it obvious they came from an image model rather than a designer's brain.For a PRD that you're going to use internally with a team that already understands the context, Gemini's output would work well. The text quality is strong enough, and if you're in the Google ecosystem (Docs, Sheets, Meet, etc.), the integration is seamless. You can paste Gemini's output directly into Google Docs and continue iterating there.But if you need to create something compelling enough to win over skeptics or secure budget, Gemini falls just short. It's good, but not great. It's the solid B+ student: reliably competent but rarely exceptional.Actionable Insight: Gemini is a strong choice if you're working in the Google ecosystem and need good integration with Docs, Sheets, and other Google Workspace tools. The quality is sufficient for most internal documentation needs. It's particularly good if you're working with cross-functional partners who are already in Google Workspace. You can share and collaborate on AI-generated drafts without friction. But don't expect visual mockups that will wow anyone, and plan to add your own strategic polish for high-stakes documents.Grok: Not Ready for Prime TimeLet's just say my expectations were low, and Grok still managed to underdeliver. The PRD felt thin, generic, and lacked the depth you need for real product work.“I don't have high expectations for grok, unfortunately,” I said before testing it. Spoiler alert: my low expectations were validated.Actionable Insight: Skip Grok for product documentation work right now. Maybe it'll improve, but as of my testing, it's simply not competitive with the other options. It felt like 1-2 years behind the others.ChatPRD: The Specialized ToolNow this was interesting. ChatPRD is purpose-built for PRDs, using foundational models underneath but with specific tuning and structure for product documentation.The result? The structure was logical, the depth was appropriate, and it included elements that showed understanding of what actually matters in a PRD. As I reflected: “Cause this one feels like, A human wrote this PRD.”The interface guides you through the process more deliberately than just dumping text into a general chat interface. It asks clarifying questions. It structures the output more thoughtfully.Actionable Insight: If you're a technical lead without a dedicated PM, or you're a PM who wants a more structured approach to using AI for PRDs, ChatPRD is worth the specialized focus. It's particularly good when you need something that feels authentic enough to share with stakeholders without heavy editing.Claude: The Clear WinnerBut the standout performer, and I'm ranking these, was Claude.“I think we know that for now, I'm gonna say Claude did the best job,” I concluded after all the testing. Claude produced the most comprehensive, thoughtful, and strategically sound PRD. But what really set it apart were the concept mocks.When I asked each tool to generate visual mockups of the product, Claude produced HTML prototypes that, while not fully functional, looked genuinely compelling. They had thoughtful UI design, clear information architecture, and felt like something that could actually guide development.“They were, like, closer to, like, what a Lovable would produce or something like that,” I noted, referring to the quality of low-fidelity prototypes that good designers create.The text quality was also superior: more nuanced, better structured, and with more strategic depth. It felt like Claude understood not just what a PRD should contain, but why it should contain those elements.Actionable Insight: For any PRD that matters, meaning anything you'll share with leadership, use to get buy-in, or guide actual product development, you might as well start with Claude. The quality difference is significant enough that it's worth using Claude even if you primarily use another tool for other tasks.Final Rankings: The Definitive HierarchyAfter testing all five tools on multiple dimensions: initial PRD generation, visual mockups, and even crafting a pitch paragraph for a skeptical VP of Engineering, here's my final ranking:* Claude - Best overall quality, most compelling mockups, strongest strategic thinking* ChatPRD - Best for structured PRD creation, feels most “human”* Gemini - Solid all-around performance, good Google integration* ChatGPT - Reliable but generic, lacks differentiation* Grok - Not competitive for this use case“I'd probably say Claude, then chat PRD, then Gemini, then chat GPT, and then Grock,” I concluded.The Deeper Lesson: Garbage In, Garbage Out (Still Applies)But here's what matters more than which tool wins: the realization that hit me partway through this experiment.“I think it really does come down to, like, you know, the quality of the prompt,” I observed. “So if our prompt were a little more detailed, all that were more thought-through, then I'm sure the output would have been better. But as you can see we didn't really put in brain trust prompting here. Just a little bit of, kind of hand-wavy prompting, but a little better than just one or two sentences.”And we still got pretty good results.This is the meta-insight that should change how you approach AI tools in your product work: The quality of your input determines the quality of your output, but the baseline quality of the tool determines the ceiling of what's possible.No amount of great prompting will make Grok produce Claude-level output. But even mediocre prompting with Claude will beat great prompting with lesser tools.So the dual strategy is:* Use the best tool available (currently Claude for PRDs)* Invest in improving your prompting skills ideally with as much original and insightful human, company aware, and context aware thinking as possible.Real-World Workflows: How to Actually Use This in Your Day-to-Day PM WorkTheory is great. Here's how to incorporate these insights into your actual product management workflows.The Weekly Sprint Planning WorkflowEvery PM I know spends hours each week preparing for sprint planning. You need to refine user stories, clarify acceptance criteria, anticipate engineering questions, and align with design and data science. AI can compress this work significantly.Here's an example workflow:Monday morning (30 minutes):* Review upcoming priorities and open your rough notes/outline in Google Docs* Open Claude and paste your outline with this prompt:“I'm preparing for sprint planning. Based on these priorities [paste notes], generate detailed user stories with acceptance criteria. Format each as: User story, Business context, Technical considerations, Acceptance criteria, Dependencies, Open questions.”Monday afternoon (20 minutes):* Review Claude's output critically* Identify gaps, unclear requirements, or missing context* Follow up with targeted prompts:“The user story about authentication is too vague. Break it down into separate stories for: social login, email/password, session management, and password reset. For each, specify security requirements and edge cases.”Tuesday morning (15 minutes):* Generate mockups for any UI-heavy stories:“Create an HTML mockup for the login flow showing: landing page, social login options, email/password form, error states, and success redirect.”* Even if the HTML doesn't work perfectly, it gives your designers a starting pointBefore sprint planning (10 minutes):* Ask Claude to anticipate engineering questions:“Review these user stories as if you're a senior engineer. What questions would you ask? What concerns would you raise about technical feasibility, dependencies, or edge cases?”* This preparation makes you look thoughtful and helps the meeting run smoothlyTotal time investment: ~75 minutes. Typical time saved: 3-4 hours compared to doing this manually.The Stakeholder Alignment WorkflowGetting alignment from multiple stakeholders (product leadership, engineering, design, data science, legal, marketing) is one of the hardest parts of PM work. AI can help you think through different stakeholder perspectives and craft compelling communications for each.Here's how:Step 1: Map your stakeholders (10 minutes)Create a quick table in a doc:Stakeholder | Primary Concern | Decision Criteria | Likely Objections VP Product | Strategic fit, ROI | Company OKRs, market opportunity | Resource allocation vs other priorities VP Eng | Technical risk, capacity | Engineering capacity, tech debt | Complexity, unclear requirements Design Lead | User experience | User research, design principles | Timeline doesn't allow proper design process Legal | Compliance, risk | Regulatory requirements | Data privacy, user consent flowsStep 2: Generate stakeholder-specific communications (20 minutes)For each key stakeholder, ask Claude:“I need to pitch this product idea to [Stakeholder]. Based on this PRD, create a 1-page brief addressing their primary concern of [concern from your table]. Open with the specific value for them, address their likely objection of [objection], and close with a clear ask. Tone should be [professional/technical/strategic] based on their role.”Then you'll have customized one-pagers for your pre-meetings with each stakeholder, dramatically increasing your alignment rate.Step 3: Synthesize feedback (15 minutes)After gathering stakeholder input, ask Claude to help you synthesize:“I got the following feedback from stakeholders: [paste feedback]. Identify: (1) Common themes, (2) Conflicting requirements, (3) Legitimate concerns vs organizational politics, (4) Recommended compromises that might satisfy multiple parties.”This pattern-matching across stakeholder feedback is something AI does really well and saves you hours of mental processing.The Quarterly Planning WorkflowQuarterly or annual planning is where product strategy gets real. You need to synthesize market trends, customer feedback, technical capabilities, and business objectives into a coherent roadmap. AI can accelerate this dramatically.Six weeks before planning:* Start collecting input (customer interviews, market research, competitive analysis, engineering feedback)* Don't wait until the last minuteFour weeks before planning:Dump everything into Claude with this structure:“I'm creating our Q2 roadmap. Context:* Business objectives: [paste from leadership]* Customer feedback themes: [paste synthesis]* Technical capabilities/constraints: [paste from engineering]* Competitive landscape: [paste analysis]* Current product gaps: [paste from your analysis]Generate 5 strategic themes that could anchor our Q2 roadmap. For each theme:* Strategic rationale (how it connects to business objectives)* Key initiatives (2-3 major features/projects)* Success metrics* Resource requirements (rough estimate)* Risks and mitigations* Customer segments addressed”This gives you a strategic framework to react to rather than starting from a blank page.Three weeks before planning:Iterate on the most promising themes:“Deep dive on Theme 3. Generate:* Detailed initiative breakdown* Dependencies on platform/infrastructure* Phasing options (MVP vs full build)* Go-to-market considerations* Data requirements* Open questions requiring research”Two weeks before planning:Pressure-test your thinking:“Play devil's advocate on this roadmap. What are the strongest arguments against each initiative? What am I likely missing? What failure modes should I plan for?”This adversarial prompting forces you to strengthen weak points before your leadership reviews it.One week before planning:Generate your presentation:“Create an executive presentation for this roadmap. Structure: (1) Market context and strategic imperative, (2) Q2 themes and initiatives, (3) Expected outcomes and metrics, (4) Resource requirements, (5) Key risks and mitigations, (6) Success criteria for decision. Make it compelling but data-driven. Tone: confident but not overselling.”Then add your company-specific context, visual brand, and personal voice.The Customer Research WorkflowAI can't replace talking to customers, but it can help you prepare better questions, analyze feedback more systematically, and identify patterns faster.Before customer interviews:“I'm interviewing customers about [topic]. Generate:* 10 open-ended questions that avoid leading the witness* 5 follow-up questions for each main question* Common cognitive biases I should watch for* A framework for categorizing responses”This prep work helps you conduct better interviews.After interviews:“I conducted 15 customer interviews. Here are the key quotes: [paste anonymized quotes]. Identify:* Recurring themes and patterns* Surprising insights that contradict our assumptions* Segments with different needs* Implied needs customers didn't articulate directly* Recommended next steps for validation”AI is excellent at pattern-matching across qualitative data at scale.The Crisis Management WorkflowSomething broke. The site is down. Data was lost. A feature shipped with a critical bug. You need to move fast.Immediate response (5 minutes):“Critical incident. Details: [brief description]. Generate:* Incident classification (Sev 1-4)* Immediate stakeholders to notify* Draft customer communication (honest, apologetic, specific about what happened and what we're doing)* Draft internal communication for leadership* Key questions to ask engineering during investigation”Having these drafted in 5 minutes lets you focus on coordination and decision-making rather than wordsmithing.Post-incident (30 minutes):“Write a post-mortem based on this incident timeline: [paste timeline]. Include:* What happened (technical details)* Root cause analysis* Impact quantification (users affected, revenue impact, time to resolution)* What went well in our response* What could have been better* Specific action items with owners and deadlines* Process changes to prevent recurrence Tone: Blameless, focused on learning and improvement.”This gives you a strong first draft to refine with your team.Common Pitfalls: What Not to Do with AI in Product ManagementNow let's talk about the mistakes I see PMs making with AI tools. Pitfall #1: Treating AI Output as FinalThe biggest mistake is copy-pasting AI output directly into your PRD, roadmap presentation, or stakeholder email without critical review.The result? Documents that are grammatically perfect but strategically shallow. Presentations that sound impressive but don't hold up under questioning. Emails that are professionally worded but miss the subtext of organizational politics.The fix: Always ask yourself:* Does this reflect my actual strategic thinking, or generic best practices?* Would my CEO/engineering lead/biggest customer find this compelling and specific?* Are there company-specific details, customer insights, or technical constraints that only I know?* Does this sound like me, or like a robot?Add those elements. That's where your value as a PM comes through.Pitfall #2: Using AI as a Crutch Instead of a ToolSome PMs use AI because they don't want to think deeply about the product. They're looking for AI to do the hard work of strategy, prioritization, and trade-off analysis.This never works. AI can help you think more systematically, but it can't replace thinking.If you find yourself using AI to avoid wrestling with hard questions (”Should we build X or Y?” “What's our actual competitive advantage?” “Why would customers switch from the incumbent?”), you're using it wrong.The fix: Use AI to explore options, not to make decisions. Generate three alternatives, pressure-test each one, then use your judgment to decide. The AI can help you think through implications, but you're still the one choosing.Pitfall #3: Not IteratingGetting mediocre AI output and just accepting it is a waste of the technology's potential.The PMs who get exceptional results from AI are the ones who iterate. They generate an initial response, identify what's weak or missing, and ask follow-up questions. They might go through 5-10 iterations on a key section of a PRD.Each iteration is quick (30 seconds to type a follow-up prompt, 30 seconds to read the response), but the cumulative effect is dramatically better output.The fix: Budget time for iteration. Don't try to generate a complete, polished PRD in one prompt. Instead, generate a rough draft, then spend 30 minutes iterating on specific sections that matter most.Pitfall #4: Ignoring the Political and Human ContextAI tools have no understanding of organizational politics, interpersonal relationships, or the specific humans you're working with.They don't know that your VP of Engineering is burned out and skeptical of any new initiatives. They don't know that your CEO has a personal obsession with a specific competitor. They don't know that your lead designer is sensitive about not being included early enough in the process.If you use AI-generated communications without layering in this human context, you'll create perfectly worded documents that land badly because they miss the subtext.The fix: After generating AI content, explicitly ask yourself: “What human context am I missing? What relationships do I need to consider? What political dynamics are in play?” Then modify the AI output accordingly.Pitfall #5: Over-Relying on a Single ToolDifferent AI tools have different strengths. Claude is great for strategic depth, ChatPRD is great for structure, Gemini integrates well with Google Workspace.If you only ever use one tool, you're missing opportunities to leverage different strengths for different tasks.The fix: Keep 2-3 tools in your toolkit. Use Claude for important PRDs and strategic documents. Use Gemini for quick internal documentation that needs to integrate with Google Docs. Use ChatPRD when you want more guided structure. Match the tool to the task.Pitfall #6: Not Fact-Checking AI OutputAI tools hallucinate. They make up statistics, misrepresent competitors, and confidently state things that aren't true. If you include those hallucinations in a PRD that goes to leadership, you look incompetent.The fix: Fact-check everything, especially:* Statistics and market data* Competitive feature claims* Technical capabilities and limitations* Regulatory and compliance requirementsIf the AI cites a number or makes a factual claim, verify it independently before including it in your document.The Meta-Skill: Prompt Engineering for PMsLet's zoom out and talk about the underlying skill that makes all of this work: prompt engineering.This is a real skill. The difference between a mediocre prompt and a great prompt can be 10x difference in output quality. And unlike coding or design, where there's a steep learning curve, prompt engineering is something you can get good at quickly.Principle 1: Provide Context Before InstructionsBad prompt:“Write a PRD for an AI tutor”Good prompt:“I'm a PM at an edtech company with 2M users, primarily high school students. We're exploring an AI tutor feature to complement our existing video content library and practice problems. Our main competitors are Khan Academy and Course Hero. Our differentiation is personalized learning paths based on student performance data.Write a PRD for an AI tutor feature targeting students in the middle 80% academically who struggle with science and math.”The second prompt gives Claude the context it needs to generate something specific and strategic rather than generic.Principle 2: Specify Format and ConstraintsBad prompt:“Generate success metrics”Good prompt:“Generate 5-7 success metrics for this feature. Include a mix of:* Leading indicators (early signals of success)* Lagging indicators (definitive success measures)* User behavior metrics* Business impact metricsFor each metric, specify: name, definition, target value, measurement method, and why it matters.”The structure you provide shapes the structure you get back.Principle 3: Ask for Multiple OptionsBad prompt:“What should our Q2 priorities be?”Good prompt:“Generate 3 different strategic approaches for Q2:* Option A: Focus on user acquisition* Option B: Focus on engagement and retention* Option C: Focus on monetizationFor each option, detail: key initiatives, expected outcomes, resource requirements, risks, and recommendation for or against.”Asking for multiple options forces the AI (and forces you) to think through trade-offs systematically.Principle 4: Specify Audience and ToneBad prompt:“Summarize this PRD”Good prompt:“Create a 1-paragraph summary of this PRD for our skeptical VP of Engineering. Tone: Technical, concise, addresses engineering concerns upfront. Focus on: technical architecture, resource requirements, risks, and expected engineering effort. Avoid marketing language.”The audience and tone specification ensures the output will actually work for your intended use.Principle 5: Use Iterative RefinementDon't try to get perfect output in one prompt. Instead:First prompt: Generate rough draft Second prompt: “This is too generic. Add specific examples from [our company context].” Third prompt: “The technical section is weak. Expand with architecture details and dependencies.” Fourth prompt: “Good. Now make it 30% more concise while keeping the key details.”Each iteration improves the output incrementally.Let me break down the prompting approach that worked in this experiment, because this is immediately actionable for your work tomorrow.Strategy 1: The Structured Outline ApproachDon't go from zero to full PRD in one prompt. Instead:* Start with strategic thinking - Spend 10-15 minutes outlining why you're building this, who it's for, and what problem it solves* Get specific - Don't say “users,” say “high school students in the middle 80% of academic performance”* Include constraints - Budget, timeline, technical limitations, competitive landscape* Dump your outline into the AI - Now ask it to expand into a full PRD* Iterate section by section - Don't try to perfect everything at onceThis is exactly what I did in my experiment, and even with my somewhat sloppy outline, the results were dramatically better than they would have been with a single-sentence prompt.Strategy 2: The Comparative Analysis PatternOne technique I used that worked particularly well: asking each tool to do the same specific task and comparing results.For example, I asked all five tools: “Please compose a one paragraph exact summary I can share over DM with a highly influential VP of engineering who is generally a skeptic but super smart.”This forced each tool to synthesize the entire PRD into a compelling pitch while accounting for a specific, challenging audience. The variation in quality was revealing—and it gave me multiple options to choose from or blend together.Actionable tip: When you need something critical (a pitch, an executive summary, a key decision framework), generate it with 2-3 different AI tools and take the best elements from each. This “ensemble approach” often produces better results than any single tool.Strategy 3: The Iterative Refinement LoopDon't treat the AI output as final. Use it as a first draft that you then refine through conversation with the AI.After getting the initial PRD, I could have asked follow-up questions like:* “What's missing from this PRD?”* “How would you strengthen the success metrics section?”* “Generate 3 alternative approaches to the core feature set”Each iteration improves the output and, more importantly, forces me to think more deeply about the product.What This Means for Your CareerIf you're an early or mid-career PM reading this, you might be thinking: “Great, so AI can write PRDs now. Am I becoming obsolete?”Absolutely not. But your role is evolving, and understanding that evolution is critical.The PMs who will thrive in the AI era are those who:* Excel at strategic thinking - AI can generate options, but you need to know which options align with company strategy, customer needs, and technical feasibility* Master the art of prompting - This is a genuine skill that separates mediocre AI users from exceptional ones* Know when to use AI and when not to - Some aspects of product work benefit enormously from AI. Others (user interviews, stakeholder negotiation, cross-functional relationship building) require human judgment and empathy* Can evaluate AI output critically - You need to spot the hallucinations, the generic fluff, and the strategic misalignments that AI inevitably producesThink of AI tools as incredibly capable interns. They can produce impressive work quickly, but they need direction, oversight, and strategic guidance. Your job is to provide that guidance while leveraging their speed and breadth.The Real-World Application: What to Do Monday MorningLet's get tactical. Here's exactly how to apply these insights to your actual product work:For Your Next PRD:* Block 30 minutes for strategic thinking - Write your back-of-the-napkin outline in Google Docs or your tool of choice* Open Claude (or ChatPRD if you want more structure)* Copy your outline with this prompt:“I'm a product manager at [company] working on [product area]. I need to create a comprehensive PRD based on this outline. Please expand this into a complete PRD with the following sections: [list your preferred sections]. Make it detailed enough for engineering to start breaking down into user stories, but concise enough for leadership to read in 15 minutes. [Paste your outline]”* Review the output critically - Look for generic statements, missing details, or strategic misalignments* Iterate on specific sections:“The success metrics section is too vague. Please provide 3-5 specific, measurable KPIs with target values and explanation of why these metrics matter.”* Generate supporting materials:“Create a visual mockup of the core user flow showing the key interaction points.”* Synthesize the best elements - Don't just copy-paste the AI output. Use it as raw material that you shape into your final documentFor Stakeholder Communication:When you need to pitch something to leadership or engineering:* Generate 3 versions of your pitch using different tools (Claude, ChatPRD, and one other)* Compare them for:* Clarity and conciseness* Strategic framing* Compelling value proposition* Addressing likely objections* Blend the best elements into your final version* Add your personal voice - This is crucial. AI output often lacks personality and specific company context. Add that yourself.For Feature Prioritization:AI tools can help you think through trade-offs more systematically:“I'm deciding between three features for our next release: [Feature A], [Feature B], and [Feature C]. For each feature, analyze: (1) Estimated engineering effort, (2) Expected user impact, (3) Strategic alignment with making our platform the go-to solution for [your market], (4) Risk factors. Then recommend a prioritization with rationale.”This doesn't replace your judgment, but it forces you to think through each dimension systematically and often surfaces considerations you hadn't thought of.The Uncomfortable Truth About AI and Product ManagementLet me be direct about something that makes many PMs uncomfortable: AI will make some PM skills less valuable while making others more valuable.Less valuable:* Writing boilerplate documentation* Creating standard frameworks and templates* Generating routine status updates* Synthesizing information from existing sourcesMore valuable:* Strategic product vision and roadmapping* Deep customer empathy and insight generation* Cross-functional leadership and influence* Critical evaluation of options and trade-offs* Creative problem-solving for novel situationsIf your PM role primarily involves the first category of tasks, you should be concerned. But if you're focused on the second category while leveraging AI for the first, you're going to be exponentially more effective than your peers who resist these tools.The PMs I see succeeding aren't those who can write the best PRD manually. They're those who can write the best PRD with AI assistance in one-tenth the time, then use the saved time to talk to more customers, think more deeply about strategy, and build stronger cross-functional relationships.Advanced Techniques: Beyond Basic PRD GenerationOnce you've mastered the basics, here are some advanced applications I've found valuable:Competitive Analysis at Scale“Research our top 5 competitors in [market]. For each one, analyze: their core value proposition, key features, pricing strategy, target customer, and likely product roadmap based on recent releases and job postings. Create a comparison matrix showing where we have advantages and gaps.”Then use web search tools in Claude or Perplexity to fact-check and expand the analysis.Scenario Planning“We're considering three strategic directions for our product: [Direction A], [Direction B], [Direction C]. For each direction, map out: likely customer adoption curve, required technical investments, competitive positioning in 12 months, and potential pivots if the hypothesis proves wrong. Then identify the highest-risk assumptions we should test first for each direction.”This kind of structured scenario thinking is exactly what AI excels at—generating multiple well-reasoned perspectives quickly.User Story GenerationAfter your PRD is solid:“Based on this PRD, generate a complete set of user stories following the format ‘As a [user type], I want to [action] so that [benefit].' Include acceptance criteria for each story. Organize them into epics by functional area.”This can save your engineering team hours of grooming meetings.The Tools Will Keep Evolving. Your Process Shouldn'tHere's something important to remember: by the time you read this, the specific rankings might have shifted. Maybe ChatGPT-5 has leapfrogged Claude. Maybe a new specialized tool has emerged.But the core principles won't change:* Do strategic thinking before touching AI* Use the best tool available for your specific task* Iterate and refine rather than accepting first outputs* Blend AI capabilities with human judgment* Focus your time on the uniquely human aspects of product managementThe specific tools matter less than your process for using them effectively.A Final Experiment: The Skeptical VP TestI want to share one more insight from my testing that I think is particularly relevant for early and mid-career PMs.Toward the end of my experiment, I gave each tool this prompt: “Please compose a one paragraph exact summary I can share over DM with a highly influential VP of engineering who is generally a skeptic but super smart.”This is such a realistic scenario. How many times have you needed to pitch an idea to a skeptical technical leader via Slack or email? Someone who's brilliant, who's seen a thousand product ideas fail, and who can spot b******t from a mile away?The quality variation in the responses was fascinating. ChatGPT gave me something that felt generic and safe. Gemini was better but still a bit too enthusiastic. Grok was... well, Grok.But Claude and ChatPRD both produced messages that felt authentic, technically credible, and appropriately confident without being overselling. They acknowledged the engineering challenges while framing the opportunity compellingly.The lesson: When the stakes are high and the audience is sophisticated, the quality of your AI tool matters even more. That skeptical VP can tell the difference between a carefully crafted message and AI-generated fluff. So can your CEO. So can your biggest customers.Use the best tools available, but more importantly, always add your own strategic thinking and authentic voice on top.Questions to Consider: A Framework for Your Own ExperimentsAs I wrapped up my Loom, I posed some questions to the audience that I'll pose to you:“Let me know in the comments, if you do your PRDs using AI differently, do you start with back of the envelope? Do you say, oh no, I just start with one sentence, and then I let the chatbot refine it with me? Or do you go way more detailed and then use the chatbot to kind of pressure test it?”These aren't rhetorical questions. Your answer reveals your approach to AI-augmented product work, and different approaches work for different people and contexts.For early-career PMs: I'd recommend starting with more detailed outlines. The discipline of thinking through your product strategy before touching AI will make you a stronger PM. You can always compress that process later as you get more experienced.For mid-career PMs: Experiment with different approaches for different types of documents. Maybe you do detailed outlines for major feature PRDs but use more iterative AI-assisted refinement for smaller features or updates. Find what optimizes your personal productivity while maintaining quality.For senior PMs and product leaders: Consider how AI changes what you should expect from your PM team. Should you be reviewing more AI-generated first drafts and spending more time on strategic guidance? Should you be training your team on effective AI usage? These are leadership questions worth grappling with.The Path Forward: Continuous ExperimentationMy experiment with these five AI tools took 45 minutes. But I'm not done experimenting.The field of AI-assisted product management is evolving rapidly. New tools launch monthly. Existing tools get smarter weekly. Prompting techniques that work today might be obsolete in three months.Your job, if you want to stay at the forefront of product management, is to continuously experiment. Try new tools. Share what works with your peers. Build a personal knowledge base of effective prompts and workflows. And be generous with what you learn. The PM community gets stronger when we share insights rather than hoarding them.That's why I created this Loom and why I'm writing this post. Not because I have all the answers, but because I'm figuring it out in real-time and want to share the journey.A Personal Note on Coaching and ConsultingIf this kind of practical advice resonates with you, I'm happy to work with you directly.Through my pm coaching practice, I offer 1:1 executive, career, and product coaching for PMs and product leaders. We can dig into your specific challenges: whether that's leveling up your AI workflows, navigating a career transition, or developing your strategic product thinking.I also work with companies (usually startups or incubation teams) on product strategy, helping teams figure out PMF for new explorations and improving their product management function.The format is flexible. Some clients want ongoing coaching, others prefer project-based consulting, and some just want a strategic sounding board for a specific decision. Whatever works for you.Reach out through tomleungcoaching.com if you're interested in working together.OK. Enough pontificating. Let's ship greatness. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit firesidepm.substack.com

Hour 1 of https://RushToReason.com focuses on medical freedom and political obstacles, with John Rush joined by Dr. Kelly Victory and Steve House. The hour examines why prominent medical and policy voices are suppressed and why reforms face strong resistance. Dr. Victory breaks down the ongoing fight over vaccine policy and medical censorship. She explains why treatments like ivermectin were aggressively dismissed despite real-world results. Steve House pulls back the curtain on the political and financial machinery behind health care. He exposes why hospital billing feels intentionally incomprehensible—and who profits from that confusion. The conversation then shifts to the 2026 midterms, with clear warnings about internal party struggles, selecting candidates, and the risks of prioritizing ideals over practical strategy. Can Republicans win without unity and a realistic approach? What if broken systems—medical, political, and media—are never examined openly? HOUR 2 Hour 2 of Rush To Reason spotlights immigration enforcement, featuring Ammon Blair of the https://TexasPublicPolicyFoundation.com. The discussion centers on state and local cooperation with ICE, how education and incentives can improve enforcement, and the debate over humane immigration policy. The hour then pivots to Colorado politics as John examines new state laws taking effect in 2026, questioning whether they protect citizens or quietly undermine property rights and personal responsibility. From tenant-landlord rules to gun show regulations, the discussion warns of unintended consequences that could worsen housing shortages and fuel government expansion. Listener calls push the conversation deeper, asking a sobering question: are these policies about compassion—or control? HOUR 3 Hour 3 delivers a wide-ranging, hard-hitting conversation that challenges prevailing narratives on government power, economics, and cultural change. John Rush is joined by Jerzee Joe (https://www.youtube.com/@jerzeejoe3145), who draws stark parallels between U.S. policy debates and the real-world consequences seen in Europe—from failed government housing projects to crime statistics tied to mass immigration. Are America's leaders ignoring lessons already written in history? The hour then shifts to a deep economic breakdown with Scott Garliss of Bent Pine Capital (https://www.bentpinecapital.com/), who dissects the Federal Reserve's latest rate cut. Did the Fed stay too tight for too long—and are they now quietly reversing course to avoid a liquidity crisis? John and Scott explore inflation, growth forecasts, quantitative tightening, and the high-stakes question of who Donald Trump may select as the next Fed Chair. Finally, the hour closes with concerns over government accountability, as callers question whether federal programs meant to help small businesses are instead enriching powerful corporations. Is the system course-correcting—or simply reacting too late? Hour 3 pulls no punches and leaves listeners with critical questions about who's really steering the economy and the country's future.

Most founders don't realize how much their work is reshaping who they are. Until it's too late.In this episode of Founder Talk, Nick Greco, mental health expert, crisis intervention instructor, and founder of C3 Education & Research, breaks down what chronic stress really does to people who live in it day after day. Nick has trained thousands of officers across the U.S., taught suicide prevention globally, and even worked with other national police forces in different countries. Few people understand high-pressure psychology like he does and the crossover to entrepreneurship is undeniable. Nick explains why people in these high-stakes, high-pressure positions lose their identity, shut down emotionally, and drift from the people they care about. He shares why communication at home often collapses, why “I'm fine” usually isn't true, and how simple habits like taking 20–30 minutes to decompress can save marriages and families. We also dive into why men struggle to ask for help, why emotional isolation is so dangerous, and how founders can actually retain people instead of losing them to fatigue, resentment, or culture issues. Nick also unpacks the psychology behind overworking, financial stress, identity fusion (“I am my job”), and why so many founders unknowingly mirror the same patterns he sees in first responders.What You'll Learn✅ Why chronic stress leads to burnout, isolation, and identity loss✅ How emotional shutdown damages relationships and how to reverse it✅ Why “burnout” is usually a system problem, not a personal weakness✅ How to decompress and reset after high-pressure days✅ Why founders and first responders fall into the same psychological trapsIf you're a founder navigating nonstop pressure, this episode gives you the clarity, tools, and mindset to stay grounded, connected, and healthy without losing yourself to the work.Connect with Nicholas GrecoGuest LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nicholas-greco-iv-m-s-bcets-catsm-faaets-ba78168/Guest Website: https://www.c3educationandresearch.com/If you are a B2B company that wants to build your own in-house content team instead of outsourcing your content to a marketing agency, we may be a fit for you! Everything you see in our podcast and content is a result of a scrappy, nimble, internal content team along with an AI-powered content systems and process. Check out pricing and services here: ⁠https://impaxs.com⁠Head to our website to stream every episode on your favorite platform, join the Founder Talk community, and submit questions for future guests–all in one place: https://foundertalkpodcast.com/Timecodes00:00 Introduction and Guest Background00:46 Founding C3 Education and Research02:43 Challenges and Rewards of Entrepreneurship04:58 Law Enforcement and Public Perception15:45 Mental Health and Officer Wellness17:00 Balancing Work and Personal Life28:09 Effective Communication in Relationships33:39 Financial Pitfalls of New Recruits35:01 The Importance of Financial Planning35:49 Materialism and Happiness36:50 Balancing Family and Work39:29 The Role of Passion in Business46:19 Stress and Burnout51:54 Mental Health and Suicide Awareness56:38 Global Training Experiences59:36 Training and Curriculum Design01:04:10 Conclusion and Contact Information

Sleep isn't just about feeling rested—it's the foundation for energy, recovery, hormones, cravings, and long-term health. In this episode, I break down what sleep deprivation does to your body (including hunger hormones and insulin sensitivity), why poor sleep makes nutrition and training feel impossible, and the most effective habits to upgrade your sleep—especially during winter and daylight savings changes.

“Lovergirl, I know you want love real bad… but please don't settle for half-love.”This video is for the women who love deeply, who feel everything, and who keep trying to make it work with men who can't meet them. If you're a lovergirl who gives your whole heart, this message is going to hit home.I talk about why longing can trick you into staying, how self-abandonment sneaks in disguised as “patience,” why emotionally unavailable men can't love you in the ways you need, and how to finally stop settling for half-effort, half-connection, and half-love.You deserve someone who meets you fully.With clarity.With consistency.With devotion.Your heart is too intentional for bare-minimum love — and in this video, I walk you through the mindset shift that finally sets you free.If you're healing, growing, or learning your worth again… this one is for you.✨ Let's connect:

The Rebel News podcasts features free audio-only versions of select RebelNews+ content and other Rebel News long-form videos, livestreams, and interviews. Monday to Friday enjoy the audio version of Ezra Levant's daily TV-style show, The Ezra Levant Show, where Ezra gives you his contrarian and conservative take on free speech, politics, and foreign policy through in-depth commentary and interviews. Wednesday evenings you can listen to the audio version of The Gunn Show with Sheila Gunn Reid the Chief Reporter of Rebel News. Sheila brings a western sensibility to Canadian news. With one foot in the oil patch and one foot in agriculture, Sheila challenges mainstream media narratives and stands up for Albertans. If you want to watch the video versions of these podcasts, make sure to begin your free RebelNewsPlus trial by subscribing at http://www.RebelNewsPlus.com

webpage:www.podpage.com/the-3-13-men-money-and-marriageCash App: $a114johnsonSummaryIn this episode of the 313 Men, Money and Marriage podcast, host Andrew Johnson explores the interplay between optimism and arithmetic in relationships. He discusses how individuals often prioritize hope and potential over logical evaluations, leading to poor decision-making in partner selection. The conversation delves into the dangers of excessive optimism, the importance of balancing emotional investment with practical considerations, and when optimism can be a beneficial investment in a relationship. Johnson emphasizes the need for self-awareness and realistic expectations in dating and relationships.takeawaysOptimism often clouds judgment in relationships.Many choose partners based on potential rather than reality.Arithmetic in relationships serves as a scorecard for contributions.Ignoring red flags can lead to chronic issues like infidelity.The sunken cause fallacy can trap individuals in unfulfilling relationships.Balancing optimism with logic is crucial for healthy relationships.The five to one rule can guide relationship satisfaction.Self-awareness is key in setting realistic expectations.Understanding the odds can prevent wasted time in dating.Optimism can be beneficial when grounded in reality.The Balance of Hope and Logic in RelationshipsNavigating Love: Optimism vs. Arithmetic"When does optimism become delusional?""Ignoring red flags pertaining to optimism.""The sunken cause fallacy in relationships."Chapters00:00 Introduction and Overview01:20 Optimism vs. Arithmetic in Relationships04:56 The Role of Emotional Investment09:51 Delusional Optimism and Red Flags10:51 Finding Balance Between Optimism and Arithmetic16:42 Conclusion: When Optimism Pays Off

In this episode, Chris speaks with Dr Taras Kuzio about the deeper forces shaping Russia's war against Ukraine and the faltering U.S.-Russia-Ukraine peace talks. Kuzio explores Vladimir Putin's obsession with history and identity, the existential stakes the war now holds for the Kremlin, and the political, economic and social pressures that make genuine negotiation nearly impossible. They unpack the Trump administration's pro-Russian tilt, European hesitation, the resilience and innovation of Ukraine's defence sector, and the deep divisions within the global Russian diaspora. The conversation also looks ahead to what 2026 may bring, the risks of a post-Putin Russia, and why the West urgently needs a coherent strategy if it hopes to shape the outcome of this conflict. Subscribe and share to stay ahead in the world of intelligence, global issues, and current affairs. Follow Dr. Kuzio on X: x.com/TarasKuzio Read Dr. Kuzio's recent reporting on Ukraine "Ukrainian Corruption Investigation Reveals Derkach's Role" | The Jamestown Foundation "Ukraine Aspires to Become Arsenal to the West" | The Jamestown Foundation "Russia's War Transforms Ukraine into a World-Leading Military Producer" | RealClear Defense Order Dr. Kuzio's books Russia and Modern Fascism: New Perspectives on the Kremlin's War Against Ukraine Russia's War on Ukraine: The Four Roots of Putin's Invasion Please share this episode using these links Audio: https://pod.fo/e/3635f0 YouTube: https://youtu.be/dJYDvmwGLns Support Secrets and Spies Become a “Friend of the Podcast” on Patreon for £3/$4: patreon.com/SecretsAndSpies Buy merchandise from our shop: redbubble.com/shop/ap/60934996 Buy us a coffee: buymeacoffee.com/secretsandspies Subscribe to our YouTube page: youtube.com/channel/UCDVB23lrHr3KFeXq4VU36dg For more information about the podcast, check out our website: secretsandspiespodcast.com Connect with us on social media Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/secretsandspies.bsky.social Instagram: https://instagram.com/secretsandspies Facebook: https://facebook.com/secretsandspies Spoutible: https://spoutible.com/SecretsAndSpies Follow Chris and Matt on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/chriscarrfilm.bsky.social https://bsky.app/profile/mattfulton.net Secrets and Spies is produced by F & P LTD. Music by Andrew R. Bird Photos by Ozan Kose/AFP/Getty Images Secrets and Spies sits at the intersection of intelligence, covert action, real-world espionage, and broader geopolitics in a way that is digestible but serious. Hosted by filmmaker Chris Carr and writer Matt Fulton, each episode examines the very topics that real intelligence officers and analysts consider on a daily basis through the lens of global events and geopolitics, featuring expert insights from former spies, authors, and journalists.

Justin Whitmel Earley once believed he could outwork sleep, outrun stress, and think his way out of anxiety until his body forced him to face the truth. In this powerful return to The 1000 Hours Outside Podcast, Justin shares how a sudden collapse into panic, insomnia, and intrusive thoughts exposed the danger of living as if we are machines instead of human beings with God-given limits. Together, Justin and Ginny unpack the core message of his newest book, The Body Teaches the Soul—that many of our deepest struggles aren't solved by trying harder, but by relearning how to live inside the design of our bodies through breath, rest, rhythm, and habit. From box breathing and breath prayers to Sabbath, sleep, and the quiet power of daily “trellis habits,” this conversation brings theology down into the lungs, the nervous system, the dinner table, and the bedtime routine. You'll hear how limits are not a punishment but a gift and how ignoring them quietly erodes our peace, our families, and our faith. This episode is for anyone who feels stretched thin, chronically tired, or quietly anxious as well as for parents trying to pass something better to their children. Check out Justin's podcast here: https://www.intentionalfatherhood.org Get your copy of The Body Teaches the Soul here Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to episode 538 of the Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast. A Holiday Replay of episode 501 with Earl Hunter. Earl is a motivational speaker and founder of The Unity Folks™. Welcome to the Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast. Today, on episode 501, Earl B. Hunter, Jr. from Black Folks Camp To make a second visit to The Show. is the Founder and President of Black Folks Camp Too — a marketing-driven business whose mission is to increase diversity in the outdoor industry by making it easier, more interesting, and more fun for Folks to go camping. He's an experienced business leader across multiple industries. He has been widely recognized for his ebullient personality, hard work ethic, and non-traditional approach to building relationships and closing deals. Facebook   Twitter   Instagram Love the show? Subscribe,  rate, review, and share! Sign up for my Newsletter  HERE I'd love to hear your feedback about the show! You can contact me here:  rick@theoutdoorbizpodcast.com What Happened: It was the summer of 2017. I was clocking miles like a long-haul trucker, repping campers for a living. My 7-year-old son called me out—said I'd promised to take him to Mount Rushmore. He was right. I'd driven past it more times than I could count, but I'd never stopped. So we hit the road. We camped our way across the country, father and son, a Black duo in a tiny pop-up trailer, parking it beside some seriously decked-out RV setups. We saw the sights, roasted marshmallows, and somewhere near Albuquerque, we spotted something we hadn't seen in thousands of miles: another Black family camping. My son lit up and said, "Hey Daddy! Black people!" That moment stuck. We talked to the family—Kimberly and crew—and she said something that flipped a switch in my brain: "Why don't you change that then?" That "why not you?" hit hard. By the time we were driving up the California coast, the name Black Folks Camp Too was born. Principle: Too often, we wait for permission—permission to belong, to show up, to start something meaningful. But sometimes, it takes seeing the gap with your own eyes, feeling the silence in certain spaces, to realize: you're the one who's supposed to fill it. And in business, just like in the outdoors, if you're only serving the same people the same way… you're gonna miss the fire. The campfire, that is. Transition: Most people think getting more folks into the outdoors is about better gear or cool photos on Instagram. But that's not it. The real challenge is the invitation—and the welcome. And too many companies still don't know why the diversity gap exists, so they don't know how to fix it. That's why a lot of businesses are struggling. Not because there's no market—but because they don't see who they're ignoring. And even when they do? They get hung up on the word Black in the name… instead of focusing on the unity behind the mission. That's why: That's why this episode matters. Earl Hunter isn't just talking about camping—he's talking about culture, connection, and cracking open an industry that's been too exclusive for too long. He's not asking for handouts or kumbayas. He's showing up with data, vision, and a real plan to shift the outdoor industry before it goes broke. Call to Action (PAS style): If you've ever felt like the outdoor world wasn't built for you—or your brand's been stuck serving the same crowd—it's time to tune in. Ignoring the invitation problem won't fix it. But this episode will give you a fresh lens and a fire to take action.  Hit play now. Let's change the campfire conversation. Show Notes: Earl Hunter Black Folks Camp Too Oboz Insoles Sylvansport  Georgia Military College  Appalachian State University Earl's Trail name:  Icebreaker  Mount Rushmore  Unity Blaze  Favorite piece of outdoor gear: OBOZ Insoles Favorite book:  The Billion Dollar Bet,  Bob Johnson Advice:  the first advice I would give folks is, is to go to our unity, go to black folks camp too, and go to our Unity blaze map and find campgrounds that are on our map that are actually there. Those folks are truly invited and welcoming you to camp at their campground. I would also say to know before you go. Do as much research as you can. You have these devices now, and you have so many YouTube channels and things of that nature to learn about camping. Follow up with Earl: earl@blackfolkscamptoo.com Black Folks Camp Too Thank you for joining us on another episode of the Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast. Be sure to visit our website, rick saes.com. You'll find show notes and links to everything we talked about and more. And while you're at it, if you found value in this show, give us a rating on Apple Podcast or spread the word and tell a friend. That would really help us out too. We should tune in every week. Thanks again for listening to the Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast. #Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast, #Black Folks Camp Too, #Earl Hunter, #diversity in the outdoors, #Appalachian State, #Unity Blaze, #outdoor industry, #inclusion, #Unity Blaze partners, #outdoor community, #backpacking, #state parks, #Oboz Footwear, #Spacious Skies Campgrounds, #outdoor lifestyle, #RV camping, #outdoor participation, #unity in outdoors, #generational transfer, #environmental stewardship.

Kent Beck: You're Ignoring Optionality… and Paying for ItIn this episode of Maintainable, Robby speaks with Kent Beck, a foundational voice in modern software development and author of Tidy First?. Kent joins from California to explore why optionality is a central, often underestimated dimension of maintainable software.Kent begins by describing the tension between features and future flexibility. Shipping new capabilities is easy to measure. Creating options for what comes next is not. That imbalance is where maintainability either flourishes or collapses. Senior developers in particular must learn to navigate this tension because they have lived through the consequences when no one does.They reflect on how cost models have shifted across the last five decades. Early in Kent's career, computers were expensive and programmers were cheap. Today the balance often flips depending on scale. At massive scale, electricity and compute time become meaningful costs again. That variability shapes whether teams optimize for hardware efficiency or developer efficiency.Episode Highlights[00:00:46] The Two Forms of Software ValueKent explains why software value comes from both current features and the options you preserve for future work. He describes optionality as the invisible half of maintainability.[00:03:35] When Computers Become “Expensive” AgainRobby and Kent revisit the shift from hardware-optimized development to developer-optimized development and how large-scale systems have reintroduced compute cost pressures.[00:07:25] Why the Question Mark in Tidy First?Kent shares why tidying is always a judgment call and why he put a question mark in the title.[00:10:14] The Real Cost of Speculative FlexibilityThey discuss why adding configurability too early creates waste and why waiting until just before you need it increases value.[00:13:46] Making Hard Changes EasyKent outlines his guiding idea. When you face a difficult change, make the change easy first, then make the easy change.[00:17:08] The Feature SawKent explains his features versus options graph and how teams repeatedly burn optionality until they hit zero. At that point, forward movement becomes painful.[00:19:37] Why 100 Percent Utilization Is a TrapKent discusses how queuing theory shows that full utilization pushes wait times toward infinity. Overcommitted teams have no room for design work.[00:22:44] Split Teams Do Not Solve the ProblemRobby talks about consulting scenarios where “tidy teams” and “feature teams” are separated. Kent argues that this splits incentives and prevents optionality from being sustained.[00:26:15] Structure and Behavior Should Not Ship TogetherKent describes why feature changes are irreversible, structure changes are reversible, and why combining them increases risk for everyone.[00:30:37] Tidying Reveals IntentWhile cleaning up structure, developers often uncover logic flaws or misunderstandings that were previously hidden.[00:32:00] When Teams Discourage TestingKent shares stories about environments where developers were punished for refactoring or writing tests. He explains why building career options is essential in those situations.[00:37:57] Why Tidying Is an Ethical ObligationKent reframes optionality as a moral responsibility. No one should make work harder for the next person who touches the code.[00:41:33] Succession and SlicingKent describes how nearly every structural change can be broken into small, safe steps, even when the change first appears atomic.[00:47:00] A Small Habit to Start TodayKent suggests adding a blank line to separate conceptual chunks in long functions. It is a small step that improves clarity immediately.Resources MentionedTidy First? by Kent BeckKent Beck on SubstackThe Timeless Way of Building by Christopher AlexanderThanks to Our Sponsor!Turn hours of debugging into just minutes! AppSignal is a performance monitoring and error-tracking tool designed for Ruby, Elixir, Python, Node.js, Javascript, and other frameworks.It offers six powerful features with one simple interface, providing developers with real-time insights into the performance and health of web applications.Keep your coding cool and error-free, one line at a time! Use the code maintainable to get a 10% discount for your first year. Check them out! Subscribe to Maintainable on:Apple PodcastsSpotifyOr search "Maintainable" wherever you stream your podcasts.Keep up to date with the Maintainable Podcast by joining the newsletter.

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In this episode, Matt speaks with Ryan Hopkins, one of the most influential voices in workplace well-being today. Ryan is the Chief Impact Officer at JAAQ, an award-winning digital mental health platform, and the author of the bestselling book 52 Weeks of Well-Being.Together, they unpack the evolution of workplace well-being, the difference between wellness and well-being, and the cost to organizations that continue to ignore their people.In this conversation, they explore:The changing landscape of workplace well-being, and what's still being missedThe true cost of poor well-being in the workplace: productivity, culture, and bottom lineHow to quantify and measure well-being impact within an organizationWhy “wellness perks” aren't the same as a well-being strategyPractical strategies for individuals, especially if your boss isn't willing to changeActionable insights from Ryan's book 52 Weeks of Well-BeingWhether you're a leader trying to support your people, or someone stuck in a culture that won't shift, this episode offers tools, insight, and a sense of hope that change, even small, is always possible.Want to contact Ryan. Details belowLinkedin – Ryan HopkinsInstagram @theryanhopkins1www.theryanhopkins.com  If you have a question for the podcast or are interested in working with Matt, you can reach out at: • Email: info@wellnesseducationdubai.com • Website: www.wellnesseducationdubai.com • Instagram: @wellness_education_dubai • Facebook: @mattmarneyfitness • LinkedIn: Matt Marney (Wellness Education Dubai) 

One of the laws of nature is the law of biogenesis: life only comes from other life. An exception to this rule has never been observed in nature or in the lab.

In this episode, we dive into an overlooked conversation that could make a huge difference in your day-to-day experience. We're talking about how to talk about, and fairly distribute, household labor! You'll hear why big life events are the perfect time to rebalance labor, how to approach these conversations without conflict, and the simple steps to make changes stick. I'm also giving you free access to a tool I created to help your family redistribute household labor equitably. Grab it here! ( https://www.alexishaselberger.com/catalog)This show is brought to you by: ⁠Time Well Spent : the time management course for real people, just like you, who want to do more and stress less -  https://www.alexishaselberger.com/time-well-spent-course Stay connected!:Visit our website at  ⁠https://www.alexishaselberger.com⁠ Check out the " ⁠Time Well Spent: Time Management for Real People⁠ “ Course ( https://www.alexishaselberger.com/time-well-spent-course )Join the  ⁠Do More, Stress Less Facebook Community⁠  ( https://www.facebook.com/groups/domorestressless )Connect on  ⁠Linkedin⁠  ( https://www.linkedin.com/in/alexis-haselberger/ )Follow us for updates and more content: Youtube  ( https://www.youtube.com/c/DoMoreStressLess ) ⁠Instagram⁠  ( https://www.instagram.com/do.more.stress.less/ ) ⁠TikTok⁠  ( https://www.tiktok.com/@do.more.stress.less)  ⁠Facebook⁠  ( https://www.facebook.com/domorestressless )We want your feedback!:If you have constructive feedback, please email us at alexis+podcastfeedback@alexishaselberger.comIf you enjoyed this episode, please leave us a rating and share with a friend!Transcript:Read it  ⁠here⁠ !

The National Security Hour with LTC Sargis Sangari – Taiwan stands at the center of America's survival as a nation. I argue from experience that our security, economy, and strategic freedom now depend on a single island producing the chips that power modern defense and industry. Ignoring this reality risks surrendering sovereignty, stability, and moral clarity in an increasingly dangerous world...

What if the key to unlocking peak performance is not pushing harder but mastering the art of mental focus and well-being? I traveled to LA to be at Mastery Labs to unlock the secrets of high performance with Michael Gervais, a renowned expert in mindfulness and psychology. This is our annual Holiday episode of Ultimate Guide to Partnering and my gift to you, our amazing listeners, followers, and community. Michael shares how mental training can revolutionize personal and professional approaches to challenges, from his roots in elite sports to shaping corporate cultures. He explores the pivotal moments that sparked his passion, revealing how psychological skills like confidence and focus can be trained to thrive in any environment. This episode highlights actionable strategies for balancing well-being with ambition, applying insights from sports to business, and using mindfulness to direct focus effectively. With stories ranging from surfing competitions to Microsoft's cultural transformation under Satya Nadella, Michael offers a holistic perspective on performance psychology and sustainable success. Thank you for supporting Ultimate Partner and the Ultimate Guide to Partnering Podcast. Please tell your friends, subscribe, and leave us up to a 5-star Review, as it helps us get more amazing guests.

Send us a textThe Ladder of Conscious CompetenceFour stages: Conscious/Unconscious Competence & Incompetence.This can explain why there's a lack of knowledge transfer at your schoolWhy having unconscious competence makes skills hard to teach.The Peter Principle in EducationPeople are promoted beyond their skillset (shifting from teaching children to teaching adults).Success in one role doesn't guarantee success in another.Effective leadership requires a balance of three key skill sets: technical, conceptual, and humanCoaching Missteps to AvoidAvoid coaching people to mimic your personality or style (Focus on enhancing the coachee's unique strengths.)Avoid sharing personal success stories excessively ("When I was a teacher, I...").Ignoring the critical need for developing adult-learning skills.

If a Ukraine proposal was shaped to benefit a foreign power tied to Kushner's money, that's not diplomacy: it's corruption…See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

On Tuesday's Mark Levin Show, history teaches us and helps demonstrate what patriotism is. But how can we demand patriotism from immigrants when we have American citizens on the neo-fascist right who trash our history? These people are not America first. How can they be America first when they don't understand our history, or founding? They will ensure that the Republicans lose the midterms and the Democrats choose the next president by causing even a small number of Republican and conservative voters to stay home. And the Marxist-Islamist left loves Carlson and the rest of them, as do the Democrat media that continuously promotes them. They know that he and his ilk will deliver them victories. We must do all we can to overcome this. Later, socialism light is not the answer to affordability. Capitalism is how you create prosperity and growth, which creates affordability and supply. Socialism light is also ineffective against aggressive socialism and the RINO proponents sound like liberals or Marxists. They lack coherent philosophy and resort to attacks while ignoring historical lessons from great minds like Milton Friedman, Mises, Hayek, Adam Smith, Reagan, and Trump. Afterward, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth is doing an excellent job. That's why the hate America Democrats relentlessly attack him. They need to get the hell off his back and condemn our enemies instead! Finally, Steve Hilton calls in to discuss his race for Governor of California. He can achieve a political upset next year by adopting Trump's common-sense approach nationwide, focusing on addressing bloated government and high costs driven by the climate insanity. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Happy December!!!! As the year come to an end, a lot of us may be realizing we're not exactly where we thought we'd be. Maybe you didn't hit your resolutions. Maybe you feel like you should be “further along.” Maybe you're disappointed in your own lack of progress and don't know why things aren't changing… even though you want them to. In today's episode, I talk about the truth behind why you know better but still don't do better. Why you keep repeating the same patterns, ending up in the same situations, attracting the same friendships or relationships, or feeling stuck in the same habits.  Today's ep covers.... • Knowing the problem but not actually solving it • Repeating patterns you haven't named yet • Ignoring the lessons life is trying to teach you • The difference between “protecting your peace” and avoiding accountability Journal prompts - How does this make me feel…. Why did this happen? Did I play a part in this happening? Does this align with who I want to be? Am I able to change the outcome or do I need to remove myself from the situation? “What's one pattern I've been repeating that I haven't named yet? What is it and is it negatively impacting me or my goals?” “Are my actions aligned with my goals? What are 3 things I can do right now to change my behavior and make a change?” Trying Not to Care is sponsored by Fabletics - Go to fabletics.com/TNTC and sign up as a VIP and get eighty percent off everything Trying Not to Care is sponsored by Uncommon Goods - Get 15% off your next gift at uncommongoods.com/tntc WANT TO ASK ME QUESTIONS? NEED ADVICE? Follow me on IG and look out for submissions on my story or ask me here: 2025 google form JOIN THE TRYING NOT TO CARE GROUPCHAT HERE ✨https://links.geneva.com/invite/3b386511-50ef-42fb-8363-16807ef87c21 KEEP UP WITH ME ON SOCIAL MEDIA Instagram: Ashley's Instagram | Trying Not to Care Instagram TikTok: Ashley's TikTok | Trying Not to Care TikTok Youtube: Subscribe here Amazon Storefront and more: LTX Podcast Business Inquiries - ashleychristinecorbo@gmail.com Social Media Inquiries - ashley@abouttalentagency.com